Kneeling to the Sword
by Gatekat
Summary: Knights of Light. Dai Atlas/Axe. When General Dai Atlas and his SIC decide to retire from Nova Prime's army, they know it could cost them dearly and plan accordingly.
1. Convergent Paths

**Fandom**: Transformers G1  
**Author**: gatekat, ultrarodimus on LJ  
**Pairing**: Axe/Dai Atlas, Wing/Atl  
**Rating**: NC-17  
**Codes**: Slash, Historical Setting, Knights of Light, Sticky  
**Summary**: When General Dai Atlas and his SIC decide to retire from Nova Prime's army, they know it could cost them dearly and plan accordingly.  
**Disclaimer**: The authors are only playing with their own twisted muses. Transformers belong to Hasbro. Fandom-side, check the inspirations page (gatekat-fics .livejournal 290 .html). We draw from a ton of amazing stories and authors you should read.  
**Notes**:  
nanoklik = 1/8 second;  
klik = 496 nanokliks/62 seconds;  
breem = 8 kliks/8.27 minutes;  
groon = 9 breem/1.24 hours;  
joor = 6 groon/7.44 hours;  
orn = 42 joor/13.02 days;  
decaorn = 32 orns/1.14 years;  
metacycle = 8 decaorn/9.22 years;  
vorn = 9 metacycles/72 decaorn/83 years;  
::text:: comm chatter  
~text~ hardline/bond chatter

Kneeling to the Sword 01: Convergent Paths  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ =================== ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

General Dai Atlas checked himself in a 360 globe mirror room, being even more meticulous than he'd been in ages. This was not an orn to be anything less than flawless. The Lord Prime was not known for his tolerance for faults, and what he and Axe were about to do was an invitation for trouble at best. Officers of their rank simply did not retire, resign or anything of the sort. Not under this Prime. Under Guardian Prime it would have been nothing to fear. They had their fee saved up three times over, just in case.

Axe waited for him, fidgeting uneasily. The black mech's finish was immaculate, his gold trim gleaming. Blue optics glittering with worry met his larger mate's.

As two of the highest-ranked mechs in Nova Prime's forces, Axe and his mate had seen and committed all manner of atrocities, and they knew very well how the Prime reacted to those he perceived to be traitors or threats. What Dai Atlas and Axe were about to do was not going to be taken well.

They gave each other a final once over and left their quarters in silence.

~Are you ready for this?~ Dai Atlas reached across their bond. ~For what it means if he does not let us go?~

Nervousness and determination flowed back along the bond, the black mech steeling himself. Armor plates fluffed and resettled. ~I'm ready,~ was the soft reply.

Understanding and determination wrapped around Axe's spark as they made their way to the Prime's grand office where official business was held and waited to be announced to the mech who had pushed Cybertron's empire to envelope much of known space.

Axe shifted his weight restlessly from pede to pede, trying to keep his fidgeting to a minimum. He was not looking forward to this meeting, but he was sick of the fighting and the fuelshed and genocide against alien races.

They were escorted into the grand office that's back space was dominated by a holo map of the empire and front by the owner of the space, and the empire on display.

The aide hurriedly made himself scarce as the general and his bonded SIC faced their commander.

"What is it that required my attention?" Nova Prima regarded the pair, already suspecting something he wouldn't like.

"We have come to pay our fees, Lord Prime," Dai Atlas spoke smoothly, calmly, respectfully.

"Your fees," the Prime repeated, staring at the pair without comprehension for a long moment. "Officers do not have a fee."

Somehow Axe managed to restrain another fidget. The plating on his back, out of Nova Prime's sight, quivered. Taking strength from the presence of his mate, the black mech held still, watching the Prime warily.

Dai Atlas was without response for a lingering moment. "Lord Prime, the fees are still on the datagrid."

"Officers do not have a fee," he repeated. "You will return to your unit. Now."

Axe shifted ever so slightly. "We are here to pay our fees, Lord Prime," he stated, managing to keep his nervousness out of his voice. "We will not be returning to our unit."

Dai Atlas made a confirming sound, causing the Prime's optics to narrow.

"This is your final statement?" Nova Prime demanded.

"Yes, Lord Prime," Dai Atlas said firmly. "We will pay our fees and leave free mecha."

Harsh optics landed on Axe.

Black plating clamped tighter to Axe's frame, but the black mech straightened his back, meeting Nova Prime's optics. He was not going to back down.

The door to the office opened to eight large M.E.s.

"Take them to the brig," Nova Prime ordered. "Charge is desertion and refusing orders."

~Infernal Pits!~ Dai Atlas cursed privately as he scrambled for a way out. Externally he was utterly calm and collected.

Axe edged closer to his mate, blue optics flicking over the eight mechs. Every muscle cable in his frame was tense, ready to move if he had to.

~Transform and fly!~ Dai Atlas commanded, drawing his mate's attention to the window that wasn't really big enough for their alts even as the larger triple changer leapt into the air and powered up his weapons.

Axe didn't bother replying, leaping into the air and transforming to his flight mode. Hot exhaust blasted from his turbines, sending one of the MEs flinching back from the heat.

"Stop them!" Prime roared in outrage as Dai Atlas launched two missiles into the wall, blasting a hole large enough for even his large frame. He was out first, Axe on his exhaust and the MEs who could fly right behind them.

Axe tracked on the MEs behind them, firing a missile of his own. It clipped the wing of one of the leading MEs, sending the other mech spiraling groundward trailing black smoke.

Under and around them the palace erupted in an alert, scrambling every combat-trained airframe and all the anti-aerial weapons.

~Seekers,~ Dai Atlas warned as they were opened fire on from every direction. If they hadn't spent half their existences in such conditions it would have been terrifying.

Axe dodged madly, swearing. He was used to dodging and ducking anti-aerial fire, but that didn't make it any less annoying.

~We'll have to fight them off, and hide from them if we can,~ the black triple changer replied, managing to wing one of the seekers and getting a shouted profanity in response.

~Agreed,~ Dai Atlas replied, focusing on synching them through their bond into the combat team that had proven devastating to enemies and challengers alike. He opened fire on the right position of a trine of Seekers, sending the scientifically minded tetrajet down and his leader transforming to dive after him while the third was still in the action but distracted.

A quick burst from Axe brought down the third seeker, the black triple changer quickly scanning for the next attackers. He flipped up on a wingtip to avoid another eruption of anti-aerial fire, not wanting to be taken down himself. Awareness had narrowed to an extent, focusing on survival.

Three more trines were closing in on them, as well as larger fliers and combat aerials.

~There!~ Dai Atlas commanded across the bond, more a sense of coordinates than a true word as he bolted for an opening in the forming grid of death around them.

Axe was on his mate's tailfins in moments, close enough that the exhaust from his mate's turbines scorched along his plating. Ignoring the discomfort, Axe followed Dai Atlas through the hole, bolting away from the palace as fast as their engines could take them. Seekers and faster Aerials were after them, but despite the greater speed and maneuverability of the pursuers, each of the old pair had more experience than all of them combined.

Axe saw the crevasse first, large enough for them to enter, and if they transformed the moment they were out of sight they could hide where the small, fast jets wouldn't or couldn't look.

Habit had Axe pressing himself against the side of the crevasse, hearing the engines of their pursuers roaring past. Without taking his optics away from the mouth of their hiding place, the black mech's hand slid out to catch his mate's, holding it tightly.

~Where should we go from here?~ he wondered, his blue gaze flicking over to meet Dai Atlas' red.

~You told me once about a place that trained warriors who did not fight,~ Dai Atlas struggled to remember while still in a combat high.

~It's out in the plains, what most consider the middle of nowhere,~ Axe agreed, tilting his helm in the direction of the distant monastery. ~I know approximately where it should be; might take a bit of flying around to find it. But first we have to get out of the city without being spotted.~

~I know how to get out down here,~ Dai Atlas said, giving his mate a quick databurst of the map. ~It's old, but it should be passable.~

~Lead the way, my love,~ the black triple changer replied, trusting in his mate.

S=================== S

~There it is,~ Axe murmured, changing his flightpath toward the complex rising from the barren plains off to their left.

It had taken nearly a full decaorn of flying in a rough spiral to locate the place, flying low to avoid any possible sensor sweeps or being spotted from space. The pair had been carrying emergency rations in their subspace, but those rations had run out four orns before. The two big mechs were tired and hungry, hoping they had finally found a safe place where they could rest and hide.

Groaning softly, Axe descended toward the main gates, transforming and landing heavily. He wobbled briefly on his pedes, turning to watch Dai Atlas descend. Once his bonded was on the ground, Axe turned his attention to the gates as they opened to reveal a black Seeker with swirling highlights of deep purple, light blue and green.

"Who goes there?" the femme's voice held a ritual cadence, but her white optics were hard on the pair.

The black mech inclined his helm. "I am Axe, and this is my bonded, Dai Atlas. We are seeking shelter and energon."

"Do you swear on your spark that you have committed no violence against a Knight of Light or bearer of a Great Sword of Cybertron?" She demanded smoothly, the gem of the great blade on her back glittering at them.

"We swear on our sparks," Dai Atlas said, though even he wasn't completely sure. It was still a worthy risk. He knew he didn't _remember_ anyone with such a weapon among his opponents.

Her gaze shifted to Axe.

"I also swear on my spark," Axe replied. He'd never seen a blade like that in any of the battles he had participated in, and a weapon like that he would _remember_.

She flicked her wings in acceptance. "Surrender any weapons you have. Speak of any you value as your spark."

The black mech nodded, depositing a laser rifle and several smaller guns in a neat pile. Bringing out his battleax, he showed it to the femme. "This is the only weapon I value. It has served me well for a very long time."

She took possession of it personally while others began to gather the more modern weapons.

Dai Atlas also shed his weapons, keeping none of them. He stepped around the pile, closer to his mate. "I have no weapons I value."

"I am Master Aurora of the Knights of Light," she finally introduced herself. "Welcome to the Citadel of Light. Come. Our medic will disable your integrated weapons while you refuel."

Dai Atlas nearly sagged in relief against his mate. Though he'd made no complaint, he'd been flying on fumes for orns now.

~That makes two of us,~ Axe murmured, feeling his mate's exhaustion. Sliding one arm around the larger mech, he followed the femme inside, looking around curiously. He'd heard of this place, but no one he'd ever talked to had seen the inside.

The complex was all elegance and open air, nearly a match for the great Seeker city of Vos for its appeal to the flier. Many of those walking about, who gave them the gauging looks of well-trained warriors, had swords similar to Master Aurora's on their backs.

She allowed the exchanged looks to pass between them as they entered one of the larger secondary towers and stepped onto a lift large enough for Dai Atlas to lay flat twice over.

"Master Hardwing, Knight Redline!" Aurora's bellow said much of her experience with raw rebellious recruits to the mechs who shared that background.

Two helms popped up at the femme's bellow. One was an older mech, white with red and black markings, the other a younger but noticeably large red and white. The pair approached, looking at the two newcomers. The gold optics of the younger skipped over scorched, dented and dulled plating, narrowing.

Axe turned his attention from taking in the complex as the pair approached, returning their curious looks. ~Must be the medical staff.~

~Definitely,~ Dai Atlas agreed.

"Berths. Now." The older one jabbed a finger towards the far wall and the line of half a dozen circular medical berths. "Redline."

"Getting the energon," the younger of the pair, a flier nearly as large as Axe, darted off while Dai Atlas and Axe complied with their orders.

"You don't need to hover," Hardwing groused at Aurora.

"I'm not hovering. They are my responsibility for now," the dark Seeker huffed at him almost playfully.

He huffed back and walked between his new patients. "Beyond critical energon and fuel levels and the obvious minor damage, what should I expect?"

Dai Atlas tried to form a response, only to feel himself shutting down.

Axe heaved a massive sigh as he settled onto the berth. "I feel like I could recharge for a decaorn." He blinked at the older of the pair of medics. "Disabling our integrated weapons, she said. Otherwise, we're exhausted and starving."

"This should help with the last part," the younger medic, Redline, handed him a half-strength jet grade cube of energon. "You can gulp this one," he added with a soft grin as Hardwing set Dai Atlas up with a line infusion. "Keep you from gulping down the concentrated one."

Axe accepted the cube, gulping it down in a couple of swallows and venting in relief as the energon hit his energy-deprived systems. The big mech's plating, flattened against his frame, cautiously relaxed. Turning his helm, he watched with sharp optics as Hardwing tended to his mate. Once he was satisfied by what he saw, he turned his attention back to Aurora.

Redline pushed the concentrated cube of medical high grade into his hand. "Drink while you talk."

"What brings you to us?" she asked.

"We'd had enough of Nova Prime's war," Axe replied after taking a mouthful of energon. "Enough of the senseless fighting and fuelshed and the genocide. But Nova Prime did not want to let us go. If we go back, or anywhere he controls, he'll have us executed for desertion."

"Who are you to him that he would not allow you to buy your freedom?" She asked, both curious and wary.

Axe tilted his helm toward the other berth. "The love of my existence, the other half of my spark, over on the other berth was one of Nova Prime's greatest Generals, if not the greatest. I was his second in command. Officers of our rank the Prime would not allow to retire or resign or buy their freedom. He is determined that all such mecha extinguish in his service."

She grunted and flicked her wings in a blatant insult to the Prime. "What can you do here, to earn your keep? We have no need of Generals or more warriors, no matter your skill."

The black triple changer blinked, considering the question. "I'm not sure. We've spent most of our existence on the battlefield."

He watched her pause while he finished the medical grade energon, the low buzz of a secured comm audible to his receiver.

"The Sovereign of the Light has agreed to allow you to work as a Supplicant to the Order would for your keep for now," she told him. "I hope you are not too good for the hard and dirty labor that maintains the Citadel."

Axe inclined his helm in acknowledgement. "We're not afraid of getting our hands dirty. To earn a place where we won't have to be constantly looking over our shoulders for the Prime's enforcers, we will do whatever we have to."

"Good," she flicked her wings in acceptance of his statement and glanced over at Hardwing.

"He's just been flying on fumes for too long," the chief medic shrugged. "He'll be fine in a joor or so."

She turned her attention back to Axe. "What skills do you have, other than fighting?"

"We were sparked for battle, so we never really had a chance to find out," Axe admitted. "It might take some time to figure that out. Dai is a natural leader and good at writing _readable_ histories, but I'm not sure either counts."

"Not at this point," she told him. "Is he much of an orator?"

"It's a skill he's pretty much had to develop," the black mech replied. "He's quite good at it when he has to be."

With a glare at Aurora, Hardwing focused a look at Axe. "Follow your mate's example and recharge. You need it more than she needs trivia."

The black triple changer nodded at the order, laying back on the berth. As exhausted as he was, Axe was cycling down into recharge almost immediately.

S=================== S

"Knight Dart," Aurora's voice rumbled through the great courtyard where several mecha without Great Swords or any Knight of Light markings were scrubbing and polishing the space and its benches and decorations to a warm shine.

A small red and white Knight turned to her with a warm smile and padded over with a relaxed gait. "Are these my new charges?" he asked with a nod towards Dai Atlas and Axe.

"Yes," she nodded. "The big one's Dai Atlas. The black's Axe. Triple changers, both of them. Former Generals of the Prime."

He hummed easily and nodded to her. Without a word she lifted off and transformed, angling towards one of the large towers.

"Don't let her temper get to you," Dart said easily and waved them to follow. "She's grouchy because her first creation is on his walkabout."

Axe studied the cycle mech curiously as he and his mate fell into step behind the mech called Dart. "Walkabout?"

It felt weird to both the large mechs not to be carrying weapons; adjusting would take a while. It would also take them some time to learn their way around the Citadel.

"After one earns a Great Sword and the title of Knight, they go out into the world for a few centuries. You pick up a couple crafts, meet a lot of outsiders and generally make sure that you really want to be in the Order before you come back to finish training and are allowed to train an Initiate."

"Makes sense," Axe noted, turning that over in his processor. "Makes sure Knights have a working knowledge of the outside and brings news back to the Order, besides."

Dai Atlas made a humming sound, taking in the other mechs around them, watching what they were doing. It was very much reminiscent of punishment details, and the majority of mecha seemed no more thrilled than those he'd handed such duties out to.

"Has she shown you the barracks?" Dart asked.

"Most of our time has been spent in the medical bay," Dai Atlas answered. "We arrived damaged and flying on fumes."

Dart nodded. "Zephyr," he called out to a passing Knight. "Would you watch my crew for a few breems while I show the new Supplicants around?"

"Sure," the elegant Praxian Combat Aerial smiled. "They're big ones," she checked them out curiously. "Seems to be a trend lately."

"Only because you like the big ones," Dart teased her.

~I hope that look doesn't come with the authority to take,~ Dai Atlas said silently as they followed Dart towards a low three story building.

Black plating bristled. ~I certainly hope not. I'm not much for sharing.~ Axe gave the femme a wary look.

"Knights do not take what is not willingly offered," Dart said quietly.

The black mech relaxed at that, his plating settling with a series of clicks and scrapes. "It's going to take some time to get used to the lifestyle and culture here. It's... very different from anything we're used to."

"I'm sure," Dart nodded. "You will find that most here understand, with varying levels of tolerance."

He palmed a door open, revealing a room tall enough for the triple changers and filled with simple benches, tables and a few groupings of chairs, but no vid screen or the like.

"This is the Supplicants' common room. You'll be expected to spend at least two joors an orn socializing here," Dart explained.

Both of the larger mechs nodded. Axe looked around, taking in the room. He was a bit curious about the lack of a vidscreen, but said nothing on the subject.

~It would encourage discussion and games of skill, rather than watching vids,~ Dai Atlas pointed out. "We will do our best to stay out of trouble while we adapt," he rumbled, flicking a wing absently as he made sure the ceiling was high enough to accommodate his massive frame, helm crest, and alt mode kibble. He was more than a bit surprised to find that everything cleared with room to spare.

"The dining hall and storage is on the second floor, while washracks and berths are on the third," Dart explained as he walked to the wide stairs. "I understand you are mates?"

"We have been bonded for a long time," Axe confirmed. He nudged Dai Atlas slightly. "After the courting display this mech put on, there was no way I was going to refuse the proposal."

"It was meant to impress," the larger mech rumbled, sneaking a hand over to stroke down Axe's backstrut.

Dart grinned at them over his shoulder at them. "I'll try to arrange a little private time for you then, though I can't promise how often. I'll show you the spots to sneak off to when you get your chores done early."

"You succeeded," Axe purred at his mate, then nodded to Dart. "For that I thank you."

"You're welcome," Dart said as he showed them the three simple long tables with bench seating, one for each frame size. "I'm afraid you're a bit on the large size for the table, but there are only three of you right now."

"We'll manage," Axe replied. "We're used to not quite fitting. Especially Dai here." He poked his mate, who sighed. Dai Atlas' massive size and difficulty finding furnishings to fit him was a running joke between the two.

"Who is the third our size?" Dai Atlas asked, mildly curious as they continued the tour of the simple building.

"Her designation is Skjöldur," Dart said easily. "Not much on talking, but a hard worker and focuses well on whatever she's set to do."

Axe tilted his helm ever so slightly. "It will be interesting to meet her."

"You will for the evening meal," Dart said before heading up the stairs for the third floor. "Did you receive the briefing file?"

"I think." Axe checked his files. "Yes, I have. I have yet to go through it fully, though." He databurst the file to his mate, in case Dai Atlas hadn't gotten it yet.

"I recommend doing so before second meal," Dart suggested as they stepped onto the third floor and into a large room lined with berths. The smaller ones were stacked two deep, bringing them as deep into the room as the single ones for large frames. "I'm afraid you'll be recharging apart, unless you work out how to get two berths to merge. The last two in line are for you."

"We'll do that." The black triple changer nodded. He eyed the sleeping arrangements thoughtfully. "And we'll figure something out."

Dai Atlas snickered privately and sent Axe a few very suggestive memories of sharing a single berth.

"I'm sure you will," Dart grinned. "The wash racks are in here," he drew their attention to the other third of the floor. "It is supplied with the basics, which is all you'll have as a Supplicant. Any special requests, such as detailing paints, go through me. You are expected to be clean for both meals and social time. Most shower when they get up and after chores."

The black mech winked at his mate, responding with a few memories of his own and a few ideas of what they could do with this arrangement, before returning his attention to Dart. "Keeping ourselves clean won't be a problem. That we're used to. With our former rank, it was pretty much expected of us to be clean and presentable at all times... Though how anyone could be expected to look 'clean and presentable' when just coming off a battlefield is beyond me."

"That's weird," Dart agreed. "You had to keep yourselves clean?" he asked curiously as he motioned them back down.

"For the most part, we helped each other," Dai Atlas answered, brushing a wingtip against black plating as the couple followed the small mech back downstairs.

"I guess I'm surprised you didn't have help, given your rank," Dart admitted. "What I've heard indicated that most command officers don't do much for themselves."

The former General snorted. "There were many potential perks of rank I chose not to indulge in. Why would I want anyone else to assist me when I had my own bonded mate with me? I was the odd one out in the command ranks that way."

"Baffled most of the other high-ranking officers to no end," Axe added with a chuckle.

Neither missed the flash of approval in large golden optics. "That will make adapting to this existence much easier. Most of us trade back and wing-scrubbing favors, but it's just that; favors. No one, not even the Sovereign, has a servant."

"And we've never kept servants, either," Axe replied. "Both of us were pretty self-sufficient before we bonded, and afterward it was natural to help each other. With everything from paint touch-ups, maintenance, and washing to paperwork."

Dart hummed and nodded, leading them back to the central courtyard. "Since you're military, I'm sure you understand what clean and polished means," he said seriously. "Grab a bucket and some clothes and get to work."

The two big mechs exchanged a quick glance, then Axe nodded in answer before the pair moved out into the courtyard. They'd done those chores as punishment detail many times on their way up through the ranks; it was nothing new to them, though they were considerably out of practice.

S=================== S

Wing was nearly vibrating with excitement as he settled into a ready stance against one of his best friends, a mech who was his opposite in so many ways yet shared a matching spark. Atl was big while he was small. He had heavy armor while Wing's was light. A grounder vs. a stunt jet. Calm and centered vs. excitable and emotional. Yet they both shared a fascination and need to help, all but adopt, those with a good spark that were in trouble.

Slender wings were doing their best to flutter out of their tight tuck as the white jet brought up his swords. Bright optics watched the larger mech he was facing, ready for whatever Atl would spring on him. They'd sparred together many times over the course of their training and since being Knighted, so they knew each other's moves nearly as well as they knew their own.

"You really need to learn to control those," Atl chuckled as he made his first attack, a light lunge to test his friend's manner after so long apart while they had wandered Cybertron and occasionally beyond as Knights, learning trades and about the universe before returning to take up the much more controlled existence that was the monastery.

"Easier said than done," Wing retorted, parrying the lunge neatly. He grinned at Atl, enjoying being back in his friend's company. It had been too long since he'd seen the other mech.

"How many trades did you pick up?" Atl asked, coming around with another swing, using his greater strength, mass and height to his advantage.

"I've got advanced construction and architecture, surveying, as well as a bit of engineering," Wing replied, blocking one stroke and delivering one of his own. "What did you get?"

"Sparkling care and law, specialized in defense, and medicine," the big red mech answered with an easy block that pushed Wing back a step.

The white jet skittered back, then came in low, aiming at red legs. A good trick for a small mech to learn was going for a larger opponent's legs, making them an easier target. "Interesting selections."

"As are yours," Atl blocked the move, long used to Wing's favored tricks. "I would have thought you would have been more socially active in your job."

"Call it a hunch. And it was quite interesting." Wing sidestepped, attacking from a different direction.

"Have you met any of the Supplicants yet?" Atl asked, using his greater reach to slash out at Wing's chest.

"Not yet." Wing dropped under the stroke, bouncing up to try and get inside Atl's guard. "Perhaps we could go and meet them later? Both of us are almost ready to take on Initiates of our own."

"True," he agreed before driving the fist-enclosed hilt of his second practice sword into Wing's chest. "We should be looking to take on an Initiate within a few vorns or they'll wonder about making us Senior Knights."

Wing oofed, taking a step backward before launching himself at his friend, his blades moving with lightning quickness. "So, later then?"

"Definitely," Atl grinned and launched himself forward, nearly as quick as his friend and just as skilled.

Wing managed a hit on Atl's leg, leaving a long line of gold on red and white armor. He ducked to avoid the resulting strike, dancing out of the way while trying to get another line of attack. "Hear anything interesting while you were traveling?"

"Too many disturbing stories of Nova Prime's ruthlessness and expansion," Atl admitted, shifting to give a little more focus to scoring a few hits on the lightning fast flier. "I've seen a few examples, though most of his aggression is directed at other races. It will hurt us one orn."

Wing nodded, gold optics narrowing as he watched the larger mech. "Definitely going to come back to bite us at some point." He dodged a strike, trying to close for another hit of his own. "I did hear that one of Nova's generals dropped out of the military, taking one of the other officers with him."

"Dai Atlas and Axe," Atl confirmed. "It caused quite the uproar in the capitol. Prime did not take it well, but it seems they are both as good at disappearing as they are at fighting. If they're caught, he'll probably execute them both as publicly as he can."

Wing shuddered at the thought. "I had the misfortune to see the results of one of Nova's executions... I certainly hope he never catches them. Though I do have to wonder why they chose to vanish like they did."

Atl took advantage of the reaction to dive forward, both swords slashing lighting to leave blue lines across white chest plates. "Perhaps it is the only way they could escape his madness? The military is not known to letting ranking officers go, even if they pay their fee."

"True enough." Wing darted in, leaving a stripe of yellow across Atl's arm. "Can't blame them for wanting out. I wouldn't want to work for that madmech either."

"You've known better. I'm impressed anyone who's known nothing else would think of trying," Atl grinned and used the opening Wing's attack gave him to mar the lovely white face with a line of blue.

Wing glared at him, aiming his swords at Atl's torso. "You get to help me clean this stuff off later."

"You say it like it's a chore to avoid," Atl laughed and blocked with one practice sword while the other got Wing's arm.

The white jet twisted, ducking under another blow. Wing managed a direct hit on Atl's interface hatch, giving the taller mech a triumphant look before falling back into a guard stance.

"Well, _somebody's_ going to have fun cleaning that," Atl smirked and launched a flurry of attacks that left several blue lines along Wing's frame. "Did you experience anything you'll miss?"

Wing's retaliation left several lines of yellow across Atl's frame, though there was more blue visible on the jet. "There's some _very_ good food out there."

"That there is," Atl grinned as the timed match reached the two-thirds mark. "Dance clubs and more varieties of interfacing than I ever imagined possible."

Wing purred. "Oh, I agree with that. And some of the music is amazing." He eyed Atl for a moment, gauging where he could strike next.

"So many types of grounders too," Atl rumbled one of his favorite parts of it all and launched another lighting-fast series of attacks. "It was a little strange to be a common alt type."

"Easier for fliers to get here than groundframes. It was odd to be surrounded by grounders, I do admit." Wing dodged or parried most of the attacks, but some of them still got through. Darting around the bigger mech, the white jet left a streak of yellow right across Atl's aft.

"I'm sensing a pattern here," Atl smirked. "Has Wing been feeling neglected?"

"Easy target," Wing retorted. One wing fluttered out of its tuck before folding back to his spine again.

With the last klik of the match closing in, Atl grinned and slashed out to leave a line of blue pointing down Wing's abdominals to his interface hatch.

Hearing the chime that meant the match was over, Wing backed away, lowering his blades. Looking himself over, he made a face at the amount of blue on his frame, then mock-scowled at Atl. "You win. This time."

"We'll just have to give you another try next orn," Atl chuckled as they put their practice blades away. "Want to watch the next match, or hit the washracks and check out the Supplicants?"

"Let's hit the washracks, then go see the new Supplicants who've come in," Wing replied. He flicked a wing, scowling at blue paint.

Atl nodded easily and walked with his friend to the communal wash racks in the training area where the solvent was designed to take the training paint off easily without stripping what was supported to be on your frame.

Wing handed Atl a brush, grabbing another for himself. The pair helped each other get the paint from all the hard-to-reach places, the cleanser turning blue and yellow and green around their pedes as the colors mixed. They both intentionally left the more sensitive areas for last.

Atl gave a gentle tug on one blue-speckled wing and began cleaning it with long, slow strokes. Wing leaned into the touch, spreading the wing. A purr escaped his vocalizer at the gentle strokes. The white jet turned slightly, running his own brush teasingly over the stripe he'd left across Atl's interface hatch.

The big grounder hummed low and deep, managing to keep the cover closed until it, and both slender wings, were clean. He made no secret of the desire his friend was rousing as they worked, or that he welcomed it.

By the time Atl finished with Wing's wings, the white jet was purring and almost melting into the touches. He brushed away the last of the yellow paint on the larger mech's interface hatch, feathering the bristles along the edge of the panel. His field pulsed against Atl's, alive with arousal.

"Nice to know that some things haven't changed," Atl rumbled as he wrapped his arms around the smaller mech and lifted him up into a kiss. His spike cover slid open, allowing his spike to slide free and pressurize in anticipation.

"Not in the least," Wing purred in response, wrapping both legs around the bigger mech's waist and clinging to Atl's frame. The white jet's valve cover slid open, lubricant leaking out between the platelets around the entrance.

With a shudder Atl leaned forward, pinning Wing between himself and the wall as he rolled his hips upward, spearing Wing smoothly, filling and spreading him with the ease of long familiarity dating back to their early orns as mechlings just learning about pleasure.

Wing braced himself against the wall, wings spread and pinions quivering, his golden optics meeting Atl's dimming golden ones, both of them willingly losing themselves in the pleasure. A soft moan escaped the jet as he rolled his hips into Atl's, taking the grounder's thick, long spike in deeper, shivering as it rubbed over the sensor nodes lining his valve.

"So tight," Atl moaned, low and deep as his frame trembled in his effort to hold back and savor the moment and not simply pound into his friend for the quick release they both enjoyed.

"Ohh, I missed this," Wing purred, leaning his helm back to expose his throat. His chestplates scraped lightly against the red mech's as the jet squirmed teasingly, hooking his fingers into an armor seam.

"I missed people who understand what it means to be a Knight," Atl shuddered, his thrusts coming faster as the tight, slick heat undid his control. "You feel _so_ good," he moaned before claiming Wing's mouth, his glossa seeking entrance.

"I missed people who know _just_ where to hit and how to touch the way I like." Wing trilled into the kiss, rippling his valve calipers against Atl's spike, shifting his legs to change the angle slightly. He was rewarded with a needy groan and shudder and harder thrust.

"You just didn't want to teach again," Atl broke the kiss as his armor fluffed, trying to vent heat as wisps of electricity began to dance along his frame, jumping to Wing and the wall.

Wing laughed, leaning his helm down to nip and nuzzle at Atl's shoulder. Red-trimmed white armor was beginning to flare out, hot air shimmering around plating and vents. A gasp and then a moan escaped, accompanying a full-body shiver as the charge nipped at the jet's systems.

"So hot," Atl growled and curled inward a bit. His hands moved to grip Wing's hips and aft as he shifted to thrust harder, right on the edge of overload and intent on chasing his pleasure.

Wing's fingers slid teasingly along an armor seam, slipping inside to brush over the circuitry, finding and tracing a support strut. His hips rolled into each thrust, soft moans escaping his throat, the jet turning his helm to nip at Atl's cheek armor.

The grounder's golden optics powered down completely before he grunted, his first shot of transfluid exploding into Wing's valve, thick, hot and full of energy.

Wing keened into Atl's shoulder, hooking his fingers into the seams of the red mech's back armor. Atl's overload triggered his own, his valve clutching tightly at the larger mech's spike, drawing every burst of transfluid deeper into himself and drawing their bliss out longer. Only when Atl stiffened completely, his motor relays frozen and muscle cables tight by the riot of energy cascading through him did the thrusting stop.

Wing clung to Atl's frame, venting heavily, trusting the red mech and the wall to keep him from collapsing. The jet rubbed his cheek against Atl's, letting out a soft purr.

"Good to have you back," Atl murmured as he gasped for cooling air before thinking of turning the shower temperature down enough to speed the processes.

"Good to be back," the jet crooned in response, shifting in Atl's grasp, flaring his wings and armor into the cooling spray. The hot air venting from under his armor caused beads of condensation to form before washing away.

Gradually they both relaxed, basking in the pleasant tingling of post-overload. Atl was the first to pick up that they weren't alone; as far away as they could manage, a Master of Light was helping her mechling Initiate clean up and pointedly ignoring them. He depressurized his spike and retracted it into its housing before he shifted to set Wing on his pedes.

Wing wobbled slightly on his pedes before getting his balance. The jet glanced over at the two femmes, flipping his wings in a casual shrug before tilting his helm up, letting the cooling spray run over his faceplate.

They both remained under the spray for a long klik, steadying themselves and cooling enough to check each other out and scrub the chromite transfers off before leaving Marwir to deal with her riled student.

S=================== S

Wing hummed to himself as he headed down to the main courtyard with Atl. The two Senior Knights were on their way to meet the Supplicants, who were busy with the orn's chores, some in the main courtyard and some in the storage silos. Wing and Atl had decided to meet all of them before choosing their trainees-to-be.

"Anyone catch your optic?" Atl asked as they scanned those in the courtyard.

Dart caught their optics, then nodded his acceptance of their interruption of his charges' duties.

Wing looked over the group of Supplicants visible in the courtyard. "Not yet... Anyone interest you? Or shall we go find the rest of them before making any judgments?"

"Let's take a look before chatting," Atl suggested. "Who knows, we might get lucky and find love at first sight."

Wing laughed, grinning at the bigger mech before walking out into the courtyard, skirting around a couple of Supplicants as he made his way toward the storage areas. Approaching one of the silos, used for storing grease and heavy oil, he could hear someone muttering a curse from inside.

"Someone's being verbal this orn," Atl chuckled lightly, though he found no fault with it. It was a horrible job.

"Can you blame them?" Wing replied. "I never came out of there without being covered in slime."

"Ready to risk your finish to meet them?" the larger red and white mech grinned at him, his hand hovering over the access panel.

"I'm ready," the white jet replied, riffling his wings slightly and stepping toward the access hatch. He tilted his helm as a second voice answered the first, grinning at the tone of the grumble.

The hatch slid open to the muck of an oil tank emptied for cleaning with only two very large mecha inside, their plating a sticky, oozing black to match the walls and floors. The larger of the pair looked up, took in the Great Swords of the pair and canted long, wide wings in a polite greeting. The smaller one, though he was still a giant, inclined his helm in a respectful greeting as well.

Wing inclined his helm in a greeting, stepping into the tank and looking up at the two. He'd seen big mechs before, though these two were two of the biggest he'd ever been around. "We couldn't help but overhear your commentary from outside," the white jet commented, tilting his helm to one side, optics glittering. "I have yet to find anyone who actually likes this job."

"If you do, they need a psych eval," the larger of the pair chuckled before working the wide shovel in his hands to push more sludge down the center drain. "It's not right to _like_ something like this."

"No doubt," Atl agreed, ignoring the muck at his pedes to get close enough to brush fields with Axe.

~Don't say your designation unless they ask,~ Dai Atlas told his mate. ~I'm not sure if it's good for them to connect us with anything yet.~

Wing laughed, stepping closer to the larger of the pair, extending his field to brush against Dai Atlas'. "I think everyone in the Citadel would agree with you there," he replied, grinning up at the much larger mech. Despite the friendly approach, the giant was wary, almost standoffish, though he didn't outright reject the contact.

Axe sent agreement through the bond, his field cautiously reaching out to return the touch, curious about this red Knight that was a grounder notably larger than his jet-frame companion. Friendly curiosity was returned, along with a warmth that drew Axe to him much as the energon had when he'd first arrived. Friendly and undemanding wasn't something he was used to, and he was quickly finding he craved having that attention from more than just his mate.

"You've got an advantage over us little mecha," Wing teased, testing the giant's mood. "Much bigger tools."

"And a lot more places to get this muck wedged into," Dai Atlas responded, flicking a wing to try and get some of the gunk off, making a face as he felt cold slime working its way into the wing joint. "I think we're going to end up wearing as much as we end up shoveling out."

Wing made a face in sympathetic reaction. "Just hope the others don't make you walk backwards to the washracks, cleaning up your own dirty pedeprints as you go. That happened to me once."

"Who'd you annoy?" Axe asked as be turned to get back to work on scraping the walls down.

"That was a bad orn ... I think I annoyed two or three of the masters at once," Wing replied after a moment. "And I was beyond filthy when I got out of here."

"Ouch," Dai Atlas twitched his wings in sympathy.

"Don't let him play it up too much," Atl gave his friend an unrepentant grin. "Wing all but exists to cause trouble."

Wing only grinned back, making no attempt to deny it. "Though I almost never get in trouble for the same thing twice. Or at least I try not to."

"Smart and playful," Dai Atlas chuckled, never breaking from his work. He went suddenly serious. "Never lose that and you'll enjoy a long existence."

Wing chirred his agreement, watching the bigger mech. ::I like these two,:: he commed to Atl. ::What do you think?::

::I like the bigger one,:: he responded. ::He's going to need a careful hand. The scars run deep in his spark. We haven't met any of the others, either.::

::I can be careful,:: Wing pointed out. ::When I have to be.:: He watched the larger pair for a moment. ::Let's go meet the others, then.. Though I still like these two.::

::Works for me,:: Atl nodded.

~Interesting pair,~ Axe noted, making a face as black slime dropped off the wall and landed right on him, adding another layer to his already glop-caked armor.

~Yes. Wing is a mecha I'd make a scout and courier as fast as I could,~ Dai Atlas chuckled. ~He's never going to take to close quarters authority or rank and file discipline.~

~Not up to us, not anymore and not here, though,~ Axe replied. ~I agree, though.~

Wing riffled his wings. "We have other mecha to meet; we have to get moving. Perhaps we'll see the two of you again later, though hopefully under less messy conditions." He nodded to both of the larger mechs.

"Yes, I definitely hope to be cleaner next time we meet," Dai Atlas agreed to Axe's amused trill and hum goodbye to the pair.

Atl waited until they were decently out of audio range. "What's got you about Dai Atlas?"

Wing hummed softly as he considered the question. "Call it a feeling. He'd make a fine Knight once trained." He tilted his helm at Atl. "You don't think I can handle him?"

The slightly younger and much more mellow Knight considered his friend for a lingering moment. "I believe you can train him to be a fine Knight. I am not so sure it is the best thing for him, or for you. The hurt and darkness in him is much closer to the surface and far less well managed than it is in Axe."

Wing blinked, shifting his wings. His body language and field clearly read "stubborn". "I at least want to try. It might turn out to be good for him."

"You will help him, I'm sure of that," Atl said, leaving it unsaid that there might be others who could help the old soldier more. "Do you think he might be a good mate?"

Wing shook his helm. "For me, no. If that is Dai Atlas, rumor was he was already bonded. But a good friend, yes."

Atl hummed as they spotted a well-built Praxian Aerial, white with splashes of color here and there and deep pink optics, working at welding a repair in place two stories up.

S=================== S

Dai Atlas groaned softly to himself as he left the washracks, finally having gotten all of the sludge out of his armor seams, joints, and from around his kibble. It had been a long time since he'd had to perform that much manual labor, and most of his frame ached.

"We haven't been that dirty in _ages_," Axe groaned with him. Between them, and four other sets of helping hands, it had still taken the better part of a joor to set themselves enough to rights to be presentable for social time and dinner. All either of them wanted to do was to go to Dai Atlas' berth, snuggled close and shut down for as long as they were allowed.

"I had sludge in places I'd completely forgotten I had," Dai Atlas grumped softly, flicking a wing to settle it. "There seemed to have been quite a few Knights around..."

"True," Axe agreed, shifting and settling his frame as they headed downstairs for dinner. "Probably just checking out the newcomers."

The big blue mech glanced around the dining hall as they entered, making their way to the section for the larger frametypes. There were quite a few other mecha already there, some of them glancing up as the two big mechs walked in. The table for their framesize was inhabited by only one mecha, a pale dusty rose femme of bomber/transport design. She nodded to them politely and motioned to the other side of the table.

"Skjöldur," she introduced herself, her voice low, gruff and echoing of a long, hard existence with many losses she had finally had too much of.

"Dai Atlas," the blue mech responded, inclining his helm and moving his wings out of the way so he could sit down. "And my bonded mate, Axe."

"I know," she nodded curtly. "You are very well known outside this compound. Prime must be furious."

"He is," Dai Atlas agreed. "If we show ourselves outside of this Citadel and he catches us, he will have us executed. Nova Prime is not well known for letting officers just walk away from him."

"Or forgiveness," she agreed, giving a glance down the other tables. "Whippoorwill, Tetris and Talon, then we can refuel. Don't expect the quality you are used to."

Dai Atlas followed her gaze, then nodded in response to her last comment. Red optics slid to his mate, a long wing extending to brush black plating.

~I'm beginning to wonder how many ex-military are here,~ Axe thought quietly. ~Everyone seems quite convinced we're spoiled, soft and will pitch a fit about the quality of what we'll get.~

~They know _about_ us, but they don't _know_ us,~ Dai Atlas replied. ~It's starting to look like quite a few former military mecha ended up here, and quite a few of them must have been the rank-spoiled type we did our best to avoid becoming.~

Axe glanced at the entrance as a pair of mechs, a mostly white Praxian Aerial and a black Rotor with a constant stream of interconnecting squares of color forming and disappearing along his frame in a display that must have taken a true master programmer and designer to accomplish. Mobile paint was a real rarity for its cost.

~Or those that served under them,~ Axe added quietly. ~I'm amazed I've never heard of the Rotor. That finish is amazing.~

~I can only think of a handful of mechs I've ever seen who had mobile paint.~ The larger mech blinked at the pair. ~Hopefully everyone will get past those "spoiled officer" stereotypes once we've been here for a while. They are going to get old real fast.~

~If today didn't get the 'won't do real work' part over and done with, nothing will,~ Axe grumbled.

"That's Tetris," Skjöldur supplied. "The Praxian is Talon. I'm hoping Wing picks him up. Mech needs to lighten up. A lot."

~You've got a point there,~ Dai Atlas agreed with a purely internal snort. He looked at Skjöldur curiously. "Picks him?"

"For training as a Knight," she cocked her helm slightly, her deep red visor flashing curiously. "The Senior Knights without an Initiate looking to them were out again, checking everyone out."

"So that's why there were so many Knights out in the courtyard where we were working today," Dai Atlas mused. "How does that work, exactly?"

"A Knight that's cleared to train, that's the Seniors, Masters and Sovereign, will ask if you wish to be a Knight of Light. Assuming you want to, they'll offer to train you. There's probably some paperwork or such, but that's how it was explained to me," she said easily as a femme flier on the small end of the medium frame range walked in, her golden and silver armor gleaming with obvious extreme care that went well beyond the presentable level expected here.

Dai Atlas digested that, glancing over at Axe. It might be something to discuss later; neither had given much thought to what they would do beyond finding a place where they would be safe from the wrath of the Prime.

Catching movement from the corner of his optic, the big mech glanced over toward the door as a golden and silver femme entered. Her armor was so well-polished that he absently wondered if she occasionally blinded mechs with it.

"She's an entertainer by trade," Skjöldur supplied. "No clue why she's here, but it probably has to do with Archon Dart. They _like_ each other."

That would explain the bright polish, Dai Atlas thought. He looked at the femme, tilting his helm slightly. "You do not approve?"

The big femme's features briefly twisted into a mute snarl before she settled, in no small part due to the energon cubes being brought out by a couple medium framed mecha of indeterminate origin. "No. I understand I'm _different_. They are entirely too blatant about it."

Dai Atlas eyed her for a moment before shrugging to himself. Accepting an energon cube, he took a sip, watching the other mecha in the room. It wasn't hard to pick out the newcomers, those who still weren't completely sure of their place here, from those who were comfortable and excited by the interest the Knights had paid them, from those who had likely been here too long or had no intention of trying to become a Knight of Light and didn't find anything of use in the chatter about the Knights.

~Better than I was expecting,~ Axe commented after he took his own first drink. ~We lived on far worse in the field regularly enough.~

Red optics swept over the clumps of mecha in the room, Dai Atlas shifting a long wing to a more comfortable position. ~Not bad at all,~ he agreed.

S=================== S

Wing was almost bouncing as he made his way towards where the Supplicants were working this orn. He'd checked with Dart to be sure Dai Atlas and Axe wouldn't be up to their wings in oil sludge this time; the white jet had meticulously cleaned himself for this occasion.

Riffling his wings against his back, Wing stepped out of the tower, nodding to a couple of other mecha as he went in search of his quarry.

The giant triple changer wasn't difficult to find. After a decaorn of doing chores together, Dai Atlas and Axe had been separated to see how they handled that stress. So currently Dai Atlas was working without his partner in the main training hall with a half dozen others, giving the place its once-a-metacycle deep cleaning. Like when he cleaned the oil sludge, he was working effectively and efficiently, though without grumbling out loud this time. It was clear to those watching that while the giant hadn't done this work in a while, he didn't feel it was beneath him either.

Wing paused briefly to settle himself, his armor flaring and resettling. Dart grinned at him and nodded the go ahead, though he still gazed at the giant blue mech for a moment, then approached at a more sedate walk. "Dai Atlas?"

"Yes sir?" Dai Atlas displayed another aspect of how he was settling in with the reappearance of his relaxed used of 'sir' towards the Knights. He paused to look at Wing, giving the Senior Knight his full attention for a moment.

Wing walked over to stand in front of the much bigger mech, tilting his helm to look up into red optics. One wing twitched against his back. "In the time you've been here, have you ever given thought to becoming a Knight of Light?"

"Yes sir," he nodded. "There is appeal, it suits my natural talents and training. However, we came here to escape the endless war and death. I would know more about the Knights and what they do with their combat training before I agree to anything."

"The Knights of Light are not affiliated with any warring force or with the Prime," Wing told him. "We only fight to defend the Citadel and those within its walls. A defensive force only." He tilted his helm. "Our history is available for anyone to view in the library, and any Knight would be willing to explain as much as we are permitted to tell a non-Initiate."

"I have read much of what is available," Dai Atlas said, judging the small, compact flier before him for honesty on pure reflex. "I learned long ago not to completely trust records. They are a political tool. I would rather listen to those who were there."

Wing smiled, his field brushing against Dai Atlas' in a friendly manner. "I just made Senior Knight rank; there are Masters and the Sovereign who know more than I. If you would like, I could see about arranging a meeting with them for you."

"You have not seen combat?" Dai Atlas regarded the jet curiously.

"We're so isolated not many know about us, and even fewer can be bothered to make the journey," Wing replied. "Only once have I seen any of what could be termed fighting, and that was a minor action to keep a roaming pack of raiders away from our walls. None of them were slain; we held them off until they gave up."

Dai Atlas hummed. "Who commanded that?" he asked, curious.

"Senior Knight Lightstrike, who's now a Master, led that group of Knights," the white jet answered. "I was a Junior Knight at the time. It happened quite some time ago. There is the possibility that there has been action since, but I was on walkabout, so I wasn't here to know."

"Have you ever had to kill a mech?" Dai Atlas asked, trying to wrap his processors around such highly trained warriors not fighting.

Wing shook his helm. "No, I haven't. We don't kill unless there is no other choice."

Red optics cycled, not so much in surprise as incomprehension. "You don't kill..."

"Only if there is absolutely no other way would we take another mech's life." The gold optics that met red were very serious. "That is something we take very seriously."

Dai Atlas actually stilled completely for a moment as he processed this and reached out to share what was happening with his mate. "How do you judge whether there is no other way?"

"Once we have exhausted all other options and our lives are in immediate danger," the jet replied.

Axe paused in his own chores, sending curiosity along the bond. He too had read what was available in the library, and this was all interesting news to him.

"You are prepared to train an old killer when not to kill in a fight?" Dai Atlas asked evenly, not ashamed of what he had been created and trained to be, even though he was tired of killing. "I've never been in a fight where the point wasn't to extinguish."

Wing raised his helm, his slender wings flaring out. "I am. If you wish to learn." He tilted his helm to one side, golden optics gazing steadily into red.

Dai Atlas regarded him steadily, the offer mulling through his processors once more. "I do."

The white jet's smile was sun-bright, his optics glowing warmly. One dark hand brushed against Dai Atlas'. The close contact allowed him to get a full read on the giant's field. Respect, guarded hope, determination all came across clearly. "There are forms involved when a Knight takes on an Initiate."

"What of my mate, while I am in training, and afterwards?" Dai Atlas stopped Wing from stepping back.

Wing blinked for a moment. "For the moment he still holds Supplicant status, though another Knight may yet choose him as an Initiate. Initiates are housed separately from the Supplicants, but I can talk to the masters and see if he can share your quarters even though he's not an Initiate himself."

"I would appreciate that," Dai Atlas said, and though it went unsaid, it was also clear that keeping them separate for the centuries it typically took to train to Knight status was not in the compound's best interests.

Wing's almost blinding smile returned. He tugged lightly on Dai Atlas' arm. "I'll get the forms done first, then talk to the masters about housing... Then we'll have to make sure there are training blades large enough for you. You're bigger than most of us."

With a bemused look the giant accepted being tugged along, though he shot a look at Dart to make sure this was good with the Archon.

Dart only smiled and nodded to them, then turned his attention back to the others. Wing all but bounced as he led Dai Atlas into the main complex, toward where the higher-ranked Knights had their offices.

"What rank does one of us need before Axe's ax will be released?" Dai Atlas asked, bemused by this bundle of happy energy that was latched onto him with no concern for safety.

Wing chirred thoughtfully for a moment. "When one of you reaches full Knight status, then they'll release his ax, I think. You'd have to ask one of the older Knights to be certain."

"You don't have to know all the rules before you're allowed to train the next generation?" Dai Atlas asked with a touch of surprise.

"Even at the senior level there are still things to learn," Wing replied. "We Knights never stop learning. And you'll be my first Initiate, so it's not a situation I came across before. I didn't bring any blade or weapon I was particularly attached to when I arrived."

"What were you, before you came here?" Dai Atlas asked smoothly, watching and taking in everything as they walked.

"I was sparked a stunt flier, but I never really fit in," the white jet replied. Slender wings fluttered against his back. "I didn't think I'd find anywhere I really fit in until I came across the Citadel. I'm still energetic and playful... But I'm a lot more disciplined than I was, believe it or not."

"If what I have seen is disciplined for you, the other stunt fliers and coordinators must have hated you," Dai Atlas observed evenly. "They're second only to crack military units for discipline in my experience."

The compact jet looked over his shoulder to give Dai Atlas a bright grin. "Let's just say they weren't at all sorry to see me leave."

Jogging to match the larger mech's long stride, Wing led the way into the corridor where the offices were located. "Some of these offices belong to the master Knights, the Citadel quartermaster, and the office of the Sovereign is on this level as well."

Dai Atlas nodded, matching what he was seeing to the map he had received on arrival. "Who trained you?"

"Master Knight Marwir trained me," Wing answered. "She's another of my frametype, and therefore is quite capable of chasing me down when she has to." His tone implied there had been quite a bit of chasing for the first few centuries of the white jet's training.

A low rumble of a chuckle escaped Dai Atlas. "Speed and agility aren't always what wins."

"Nope," Wing agreed cheerfully as he led the way to the office of Master Knight Aurora, who oversaw the pairings of Knights and Initiates, as well as the training. "It's skill more than anything."

"That's one way to phrase it," Dai Atlas smirked, only to wipe the expression off his features when the door opened to an officer's office like so many he'd seen in his long existence, until one began to take in the details. While the desk, shelves and artwork seemed standard, everywhere were the knickknacks and tools of an exploratory scientist.

"So, found one you like already?" Aurora chuckled. "Does Marwir know yet?"

"Not yet," Wing answered, walking over to stand in front of the desk. "This is Dai Atlas, and he has agreed to begin Knight training. I'll be training him." One white wing flared out, the tip tapping lightly against the larger mech's plating before the appendage folded again.

The black Seeker with swirling highlights of deep purple, light blue and green hummed, her wings flicking in acceptance before she focused Dai Atlas with the stunning white optics of a full priest. "Very well. Wing, wait outside."

A momentary flicker of confusion crossed the white jet before he complied, leaving Aurora and Dai Atlas alone.

"Has Wing, or anyone, implied that you must train to remain here?" She settled back in her chair and watched him carefully, well aware of the vulnerable situation the triple changer and his mate were in.

"No sir," Dai Atlas shook his helm. "Until just now, no one has said that either of us would be trained, or ever be anything other than basic labor."

"So you know, Wing is not the only Knight who has expressed interest in training you," she focused on him. "It is your right to select among them, by any means you care to use. You do not need to accept Wing simply because he was first."

"Who are the others?" Dai Atlas asked, keenly interested in who else had voiced an opinion.

"Atl, Thorn and Vanguard have all spoken of training you," she said, noting the sharp flare of his wings at the last designation. "Yes, the Sovereign of the Light has expressed an interest in you. He will not penalize you or whoever you choose."

"What of Atl and Thorn, sir?" he said, internally uneasy at the position he was in. Wing _had_ come to him first; the others had had time, so the likely internal politics said Wing was the correct choice, yet to turn down being trained by the leader of the Order for the youngest of the four?

"Atl and Wing are close. If Wing came to you, it's because they agreed to it. Much the same with Wing and Thorn, though their relationship is more lovers than friends. None of them are going to be an issue," she promised, watching carefully and fairly sure of what the large mech was thinking.

Dai Atlas took the time he was given to reach out to Axe with all this.

Axe had paused in his chores to listen in on Dai Atlas and Wing's conversation, much to the puzzlement of the other Supplicants he was working with. Though they recognized the unfocused gaze and staring-off-into-the-distance look as that of a mech communicating with another mech and left him to the conversation.

The black mech pondered the dilemma. He had met two of the named Knights, and had seen Vanguard but hadn't really spoken to him. Wing _had_ approached Dai Atlas first, and Axe rather liked the young jet. It would be interesting to see how Wing and Dai Atlas' personalities would interact.

~It would be foolish to select a new Senior Knight over the Sovereign of the Light, and yet, if the Sovereign of the Light truly wanted me, Wing would not be so foolish ... yes he would be.~ Dai Atlas groaned to himself. ~Yes, Wing would try to steal an Initiate from the Sovereign.~

~I am rather surprised the Sovereign did not approach you if he wished to train you,~ Axe commented. ~And yes, Wing would. I admire his spunk. Though I would expect he would back down if he had to, as well. You and Wing would make an interesting match. I wonder if all that energy is contagious...~

~I remember when I had energy like that. It was a _bad_ thing, my dear. Overcharged has nothing on youth,~ Dai Atlas grumbled, then focused once more on Aurora. "If any disagree, they can challenge Wing over it."

"Very well," she smiled slightly, pleased with his choice and hinting that he had given the correct answer. "Do you have any questions?"

Dai Atlas thought for a moment. "Wing mentioned asking if my mate could share my quarters even though he still holds Supplicant status."

"No," she said simply. "If he wishes to surrender Supplicant status to be your dependent, he may. Otherwise, you must wait until he is also an Initiate."

Blue armor flared at that, slowly resettling. Dai Atlas did not like the thought of being separated from his mate; he didn't know how long it would take before Axe would be chosen. He shifted his weight, asking Axe what he thought.

~We've been separated by far greater distances for far longer, love of mine,~ Axe reminded him. ~We'll both still be in the compound. It will only be schedules that keep us separated. If it becomes intolerable, I will become a dependent.~

Long wings fluttered briefly, then Dai Atlas nodded, somewhat stiffly, to Aurora. "He will remain as a Supplicant."

"Very well," she accepted the statement and the silent indication that he had no other questions for her. The door slid open for Wing and closed when he entered. "Now despite Wing's control over most of your existence until you are knighted, he is not entitled to punish you for refusing to interface."

Wing gave the femme Knight an odd look, then turned the look on Dai Atlas. Considering the size of the blue mech, he wasn't certain it would work anyway. The white jet preferred his lovers willing. "Why would I do that?"

She gave a small smile. "Required reminder of the rules in front of you both. Now, is there anything before we get the forms out of the way?"

"Not that I can think of." Wing shook his helm. One white wing twitched against his back as he stepped closer to the desk.


	2. Initiate Dai Atlas

**Fandom**: Transformers G1  
**Author**: gatekat, ultrarodimus on LJ  
**Pairing**: Axe/Dai Atlas  
**Rating**: NC-17  
**Codes**: Slash, Sticky, Historical Setting, Knights of Light  
**Summary**:  
**Disclaimer**: The authors are only playing with their own twisted muses. Transformers belong to Hasbro. Fandom-side, check the inspirations page (gatekat-fics .livejournal 290 .html). We draw from a ton of amazing stories and authors you should read.

Kneeling to the Sword 02: Initiate Dai Atlas  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ =================== ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wing trotted through the corridors of the Citadel, leading his new student toward the quarters they would be sharing. Though he wasn't entirely sure his current quarters would be large enough for both of them; Dai Atlas was one of the tallest mechs currently in the Citadel, if not the tallest. Wing made a mental note to look into larger quarters.

"These are the quarters we'll be sharing while you're in training," Wing chirped, sending the much larger mech a databurst with the door code. "If we need more room, I'll look into it in the morning, but for now, this is home."

"I'm sure I'll recharge fine, sir," Dai Atlas said, leaving the implication open of just what conditions he'd recharged in open.

The quarters were actually fair-sized for a mech of Wing's frame size. There was a main living area and a separate berthroom, as well as an extra room that doubled as both student quarters for any Initiates Wing might have, or an "office" space when he wasn't training a new Knight. A berth had been placed there suitable for the size of Dai Atlas' frame, though that meant that there nothing but berth in 2/3 of the room. Much of what was left, the first third of the room, was taken up by a desk large enough for him. The tiny bit that was left in front of the door was just enough to spread a meditation mat and kneel in.

"What am I expected to accomplish in my room?" he asked, taking note of the space and mentally placing meditation on the berth if they were going to be here for long. He rather hoped Wing would go for new quarters, given even the ceiling was on the short side for him. It didn't scrape, but it wasn't comfortable in the least.

White wings twitched. "I suspect you'll be in there more for recharge than anything else... I know I was for the first few decades of my training. Knight training can be utterly draining at times, especially for a new Initiate. You're also expected to meditate for at least a joor every orn, as well as studying the laws and culture of the Knights. Normally there would be some weapons practice as well, but I think we'll keep that in the training arenas." Wing tilted his helm slightly. "In your free time, you could spend time with your mate, or anything else you choose to do."

"Basic training all over again," Dai Atlas nodded and sent that to his mate, along with the location of his new quarters. "May I give my mate the door code, sir?"

The white jet smiled up at him. "Of course." He judged ceiling heights quickly, making a definite note to ask about larger quarters. "And yes, very much like basic training. Except that there are no modern weapons here. We Knights use bladed weapons only. Swords, axes, smaller blades... I know of at least one Knight who has wicked aim with throwing knives."

Dai Atlas chuckled. "Discipline is discipline; good training all comes down to good discipline. I've had some training with energon blades and plenty with hand to hand. Which means you'll likely have a lot of habits and reflexes to break before I move like a Knight does."

The younger mech nodded. "Quite a bit of discipline. Our art is a derivative of Metallikato; there will be endless orns of drills and katas, and I have absolutely no doubt you'll want to swat me through a wall now and then because of it. But in the end, it will work out, and one day you will bond your own Great Sword." He reached behind his own helm to stroke the hilt of the blade he carried, the blue gem in its hilt glowing at the touch.

"I have no doubt I'll _try_ to swat you through a wall," Dai Atlas said in a grim warning. "For both our sakes, I hope I can't. I've been the trainer longer than Master Marwir has been functioning. I learn well, but I do expect any who trains me to be better than I am."

"I've already been through Knight training, so I _know_ how demanding and repetitive it can be," Wing replied. "I have yet to meet a single mecha who's gone through it and _not_ at least wanted to hit their trainers." He inclined his helm in acknowledgement of the warning. He was sure he was more than fast enough to escape any strike, and if he wasn't ... well, he deserved getting hit then. It'd teach him to be faster next time.

Dai Atlas nodded. "What is your preferred address?"

The jet smiled. "Call me Wing. I prefer to be called by name over any formal titles." The smile became an impish grin. "And you'll probably think of a few other things to call me before you're Knighted."

"Likely everything I've been called over the vorns," Dai Atlas chuckled lowly.

Wing laughed, his bright, warm field reaching out to brush lightly against the larger mech's, getting more of a sense of his new student's mixture of pride, long familiarity to being the authority and spark-deep weariness. "I don't doubt it."

The white jet chirred softly, tilting his helm to the side. "The rest of the orn is your own. You can get some recharge if you like, or go find your mate, or anything else you feel like doing, within reason."

The giant inclined his helm, accepting the 'order' and acknowledge the kindness of that much free time. ~Axe, I am free for the remainder of the orn. How long until you are ready for the washrack?~

Wing smiled once more, then all but bounced out of the room, disappearing into his own berthroom. His swords were due for cleaning.

~Almost finished here,~ the black mech replied, sending affection along with the words. ~Another groon, maybe.~

~Come to Wing's quarters, we can wash up in private,~ he purred, eager for a little time with his mate. ~Ask Dart if you can stay.~

~I'll be up as soon as I'm done here,~ Axe replied, his own eagerness accompanying the words.

Just over a groon later, the sound of familiar engines echoed into the rooms as Axe touched down lightly on the balcony. Black armor bore a layer of dust, turning him an odd mottled gray. Bright blue optics flicked around the main room of the Senior Knight's quarters, taking in the minimal decorations and personal touches that the young Knight had managed to collect and keep so far.

His attention soon focused on the giant blue and white form that took up far more of the space than was reasonable.

"You need a wash," Dai Atlas rumbled and stepped close to embrace his mate and claim a kiss.

Axe leaned against his mate, returning the kiss. "So do you, now," he teased as they broke the kiss, the dust coating his armor having transferred over onto Dai Atlas' blue plating. Resting his helm against a strong blue shoulder, Axe hummed softly, basking in the larger mech's presence.

"What did Dart say?" Dai Atlas asked, drawing Axe into the space and towards the private washrack.

"He said I can spend one night a decaorn with you, but I don't get out of any chores," Axe replied, leaning his shoulder against the larger mech's. "Otherwise, I can do what I like in my free time."

The private washrack of Wing's quarters was easily large enough for the two big mechs, the ceiling at a decent height to accommodate Dai Atlas' frame. Armor brushes, cleansers, and detailing supplies were neatly arranged in easy reach, though clearly focused on a mech of primarily white and much smaller.

With one hand Dai Atlas turned the warm solvent shower on and gently pushed his mate under it. "I've been warned this will be worse than basic training for me. Either training or recharging, but we'll see. Those norms aren't for someone with our background."

Axe leaned into the solvent, flaring his armor to let the cleanser get under the thick black plating. The floor around his pedes turned a swirling gray as the dust was washed off his frame. "You've been through basic training, advanced training, and battles that kept us on the field for orns at a time. I think Wing is going to be surprised."

"Likely," Dai Atlas agreed. "I don't think he's yet grasped that I was a senior officer before his trainer was even sparked." He leaned in for a kiss, running his hands along Axe's plating as it turned black once more. "I am sure there will be a few surprises for me as well. This training does produce amazing skill."

"He'll learn," Axe purred, tugging the blue mech under the solvent spray with him. Dark hands trailing across blue plating, leaving trails in the dust and grit that had rubbed off onto Dai Atlas. The black triple changer returned the kiss, his glossa flirting along Dai Atlas' lower lip.

A deep rumble escaped the giant as his armor flared out, offering access to one of the few mecha he trusted with it. His lip plates parted and his glossa slipped out to welcome Axe's in. "As will I," he rumbled with honest eagerness at the prospect of picking up a new skill.

Axe's fingers slid under blue armor as he deepened the kiss, running his fingertips over the circuitry and caressing the edge of a circuit board. Stepping closer, the black mech pressed himself against his mate, feeling the pulse of the larger mech's spark under Dai Atlas' chest armor. Axe's other hand went right for a white wing, stroking along the leading edge, setting off all the sensors he could reach in one smooth pass.

He was rewarded by a throaty moan and flare of Dai Atlas' field as their kiss went from playful to demandingly hungry. The larger mech's field flared and his hands moved south, digging large fingers into Axe's hips. His spike cover slid open, though his spike remained housed.

One dark hand remained on Dai Atlas' wing, stroking over the sensors and the wide planes, while the other trailed down the blue triple changer's torso to slip into Dai Atlas' spike housing. Anticipation, eagerness, and lust flowed along their bond as Axe teasingly stroked the tip of his mate's spike, nimble fingers finding every sensor on the sensitive tip. Axe's valve cover slid open invitingly.

"Mine," Dai Atlas growled deeply. His spike pressurized smoothly as his glossa delved into Axe's mouth, mapping the familiar space. ~We'll make this work, love.~

"Yours, always," Axe purred in response. His hand stroked along the length of his mate's spike, twisting his wrist to spiral his fingers over the sensitive length. The black mech's glossa slid against Dai Atlas', the smaller mech the picture of willing submission. His other hand stroked up the expanse of Dai Atlas' wing to hook into the joint, flirting with the delicate mechanics where the wing joined to his mate's frame. ~It will be a challenge, but since when have we ever backed down from a challenge?~

~Never,~ he moaned into his growl and rolled his hips into his mate's touch. ~We defied the Prime. We will not lose to a _training_ regime.~

Deft fingertips kneaded along the base of Dai Atlas' spike before trailing back up, making sure to hit every sensor they could find on the way, the pad of Axe's thumb kneading the tip. Axe rubbed his cheek against his mate's, nipping at the armor, working his way down to the larger mech's neck. His engines revved, vibrating through his frame as he pressed against Dai Atlas.

"So eager," the blue mech rumbled, sliding two fingers inward to rub against the outer rim of Axe's valve, checking and teasing even as he relished the attention he was given. He'd long ago decided that a single, dedicated lover was far better than the variety he had indulged in as a young officer.

Axe's valve was dripping with lubricant, oozing out around the platelets to run down his inner thighs. The black triple changer moaned softly at the touch, his hips shifting into the touch, rubbing against Dai Atlas' fingers. Shifting forward, Axe curled a leg around his mate's, heelplates rasping lightly over the treads on the back of the larger mech's lower leg. "Always, for you," Axe responded, his voice a sultry purr. Blue optics gleamed up into warm red.

With a moan into their kiss Dai Atlas withdrew his fingers and shifted his grip to hike Axe up. Pinning the smaller mech against the wall he drove into that tight, willing, wanting valve with a heady growl. He stilled when he was fully seated, relishing the quiver and tight, slick heat that Axe had never lost, no matter how often he was stretched to his limit.

Axe wrapped his legs around Dai Atlas' hips, hands sliding around to caress and knead the tempting wings. Thoroughly relishing the feeling of being completely _full_, Axe shifted his hips slightly, rubbing his mate's spike against the sensors lining his valve and releasing a soft mewl.

"So tight, so hot, so _perfect_," Dai Atlas rumbled, rolling his hips back as he held Axe's still and then driving forward again, slamming his spike in deep and hard.

Axe moaned deeply, tilting his helm to nip at the base of one of Dai Atlas' three golden crests. Both palms swept over the leading edges of the upraised wings, rubbing over all of the sensors before sliding down to wiggle into the joints and seams where wings joined frame. The black mech's engines and turbines revved, the vibration rattling his plating slightly.

The pleasure flowed back and fourth, crackling along their plating to jump back and forth, the couple willingly losing themselves in the sharing their bond enabled. It was as close as they could come without baring their sparks, something neither felt safe enough to do here yet. Axe's back was pressed against the wall, pinning him even more as his mouth was claimed and Dai Atlas began to drive in and out, striking sparks as he sought the intense moment of a joint overload.

The black mech moaned into each thrust, the calipers of his valve rippling down around Dai Atlas' spike. He shifted his hips as much as his mate's grasp would allow, letting a sharp but soft cry escape into the kiss as the next thrust struck another cluster of sensor nodes. It felt so very good, and Dai Atlas repeated the thrust again and again, shifting only to strike another set of nodes deep inside the valve.

A few more thrusts and Dai Atlas angled for the cluster right at the very back, setting it up to feel the full impact of his rushing transfluid.

Axe clung to his mate's frame, blue optics meeting fiery red. Black plating was fluffed out, trying in vain to cool his systems. Condensation traced shining trails along dark armor. Tilting his helm, he nipped at Dai Atlas' neck cabling, one hand sweeping along the leading edge of a spread wing all the way to the tip vanes while the other slid into a transformation seam.

The roar was muted to a deep rumble between their frames as Dai Atlas quickly turned his vocalizer off, keenly aware that these were not his quarters and not completely private. Hot transfluid exploded against Axe's sensor nodes as Dai Atlas stiffened with the charge crackling rampant across his frame and circuitry.

The black triple changer buried his face in Dai Atlas' shoulder, muffling his roar against blue plating. His frame shook all over as his mate's overload set off his own, excess charge snapping across his armor, dancing between the spikes of his helm and lashing at the wall.

The released charge held them immobile in its grip for a long, intense klik before allowing the pair some control over their sagging frames once more.

~Love you,~ Dai Atlas mumbled with a nuzzle.

~Love you, too, more than words can express,~ Axe murmured in reply, snuggling against his mate's heated chassis and turning off his optics. There were times he still couldn't believe he'd won Dai Atlas' love, no matter how long they'd been together.

S=================== S

Dai Atlas reluctantly kissed Axe goodbye for the orn on the balcony to Wing's quarters, forcefully restraining himself from delaying his mate and himself. He knew he was just feeling possessive because they were not living together and it would pass. When the black jet descended to learn about his duties for the orn, Dai Atlas turned to face Wing as the small white jet came out of his berthroom for the morning.

"Did you enjoy the show, Wing?" he asked with a bit of a smirking grin.

Wing tilted his helm to gaze up at the larger mech. "There are no cameras or recording equipment in my quarters. We of the Citadel are not like that," he replied calmly. Then his impish grin reappeared. "But still, it was quite impressive. I hope I find a partner like that some orn."

"If you do, do whatever you have to to keep them," Dai Atlas advised seriously. "A good mate is a treasure worth fighting for. They're worth running for too."

Wing tilted his helm, acknowledging the advice. Then white wings and nacelle pinions fluttered. "And now, time for us to get moving. The practice blades in your size were to be ready this morning, and I have to see about larger quarters. Then, the training begins. But first, energon."

"Always a preferred way to start the orn," Dai Atlas agreed, looking to Wing for direction as to where they'd refuel even as he sent a quick thought to Axe that they'd likely have more size-appropriate quarters soon.

Wing led the way out of their quarters and down to the main level, where the Knights' rec room was. He showed Dai Atlas where the energon was stored, handing the much larger mech a cube. "Once we move to new quarters, I'll keep a few cubes of energon there, for quick refuels."

"Am I permitted to get energon for myself, Wing?" Dai Atlas asked in the odd mix of formal and relaxed that marked his effort to transition to being a recruit once more, and adapt to Wing's complete lack of regard for rank.

The white jet nodded, taking a drink from his own cube. "Unless someone says otherwise, yes."

There would be a stage in Dai Atlas' training that would require him to work hard on short rations, but they'd cross that bridge when they got to it, Wing decided. He was of the opinion that it wouldn't be anything the blue mech couldn't handle.

Dai Atlas nodded and drank, displaying the quick intake of fuel trained into him by a long existence on the front lines and battlefield rations. Wing knew the giant could, and would, refuel at a normal rate. He did at the Supplicant's table, after all. Perhaps he was extra-hungry, after spending a night in private with his mate, the first such night in some time.

Wing drank his own energon at a slower pace, looking around the rec room, taking in the other mecha present. A few exchanged nods with him, glancing curiously at the large blue mech he was standing beside.

Once the pair finished their energon, Wing led the way to the office where the mech overseeing the housing arrangements worked. It only took a couple of breems to get everything worked out and new quarters secured. Wing arranged for Dai Atlas to get the larger of the two berthrooms in their new quarters; being much smaller Wing could fit into a smaller space, and the larger mech would need the room. Both mechs were given the door code to their new quarters before heading down to the forges to pick up Dai Atlas' new practice blades.

Weapons secured, Wing led the way to the training rooms, finding one that was empty and shooing the blue triple changer inside. Privately, he was pleased with the tightly controlled excitement he could feel every time he got close to his Initiate. No matter what brought him here, Dai Atlas was eager to learn.

The blue and white giant settled in the center of the circle and dropped into a relaxed defensive posture, a visible mark of his existing combat training and how comfortable he was with it.

Smiling to himself, Wing brought the practice blades out of his subspace, holding them out hilt-first to his student. They were larger and much heavier than the blades the white jet used, made specifically for Dai Atlas.

"These are the weapons with which you will be training," Wing told the larger mech. "When you are ready, true swords will be forged for you. But for now, these will suffice."

"Understood," he nodded, subspacing one to test the balance, reach and feel of having one in his hand. "Well crafted," he commented after a moment, pleased with how balanced and smoothly it moved despite having very rarely handled a blade so large.

"Our swordsmiths are masters of their craft, and take great pride in their work." Wing watched the larger mech as Dai Atlas tested the blades.

Giving the larger mech some time to get used to the weapons, Wing backed off a bit, pulling out his own practice swords and running through a quick warmup. His movements were smooth, fluid, and powerful. The dull-edged practice blades wove a lightning-quick pattern in the air around him. He wasn't oblivious to the fact that his Initiate was watching him, already learning.

By the time Wing felt that Dai Atlas was ready for his first lesson the giant had displayed a clear preference for using a single blade and had dagger training. That was going to be the set of habits to break him of.

Wing studied the larger mech, watching how he held the sword before reaching out to tap Dai Atlas' other hand. "We Knights use paired swords. They can be used alone, but our art is practiced with both, one in each hand."

The giant nodded and pulled the second blade from subspace. He adjusted his stance, not hiding from his trainer that it felt awkward not to have a dominant side, or that he was confident in adapting quickly.

Wing smiled at the larger mech, circling him, tapping one blue leg to get Dai Atlas to shift his stance just a bit. Then he returned to his position in front of his Initiate, drawing his own practice blades.

"We will start with the very basics," Wing announced, then began walking the blue triple changer through the first of the many katas.

Five joors later, a timeframe where Wing would have needed at least five breaks when he was beginning, and Dai Atlas was still calm, centered and determinedly working though what he was given, accepting corrections and repeating the basic moves without a hint that he was bored yet.

Wing watched his Initiate with sharp optics, getting the bigger mech to repeat the movements until they were precise before moving on. The repetitive nature of the training eventually got on everyone's processor; he had no doubt it would get to Dai Atlas at some point. Maybe not in one orn, but vorn after vorn of it would. Pushing an Initiate past that point, making them snap and lash out, was part of Wing's function in this.

The jet's nacelles hummed, Wing lifting off the floor to nudge one blue arm into the correct position, guiding the move with one hand on Dai Atlas' wrist before letting go. He had to admit, this was going a lot better than he expected. The giant picked up what he was shown quickly and incorporated it smoothly.

The real question would be how much he'd retain the next orn.

Even if he retained only a little of it, constant repetition would eventually etch it into Dai Atlas' processor, into his very frame, and then he would never forget it. The basics would build the framework upon which all future lessons would be based. That Wing knew from experience.

He had little doubt that Dai Atlas did as well.

S=================== S

It was late in the orn when Wing led Dai Atlas back into the rec room for their evening energon. It had been a long orn, relentlessly drilling his Initiate in the most basic katas and moves.

"And now your first orn is over with," he commented conversationally to the larger mech as they entered the room. "What did you think of it?"

"Much more agreeable than the first orn of basic training," he compared it to the only thing he knew. "Taking or teaching."

Wing hummed. "There will be a lot of orns like this one... Long and repetitive. But it will be worth it in the end." One slender wing extended to tap lightly against Dai Atlas' plating as the white jet got himself a cube of energon, waiting for Dai Atlas to grab one before looking for a place to sit. "What do you think of the Citadel in general?"

"All training is long and repetitive," Dai Atlas chuckled a bit and sat down, his back against the wall and as commanding a view of the room and door as he could manage. "It's a self-contained world. Not that different from military bases on the frontier."

The young jet leaned on the table, one wing stretching out to brush blue plating again. "Sort of. Less focused on fighting, though. And with more general craftsmechs in residence." He took a sip of his energon. "How many other worlds have you been to?"

"More than I care to think about," the big mech groaned at the thought of counting before taking a long drink of his giant sized cube. "I went where I was sent. Well over a hundred, I'm sure."

"I can only imagine the places you've seen," Wing commented. "Even on walkabout, not many Knights actually leave the planet, and if they do, they don't go too far. And most of the information that filters back to Cybertron about other worlds is more than a little biased."

"To put it mildly," Dai Atlas agreed. "Besides a handful of scientific explorers that never talk outside their own kind, it's almost all military out there. If you're looking for a point of view that isn't biased the same way, I'm not one to talk to."

Wing snorted. "I'm not that likely to ever meet any of those sciency types... They don't come here, and am I actually likely to be able to understand a word they say? You've actually seen other worlds, and that's more than I ever have." The white jet leaned over to press his shoulder briefly against Dai Atlas' arm.

"Are you always this tactile, Wing?" Dai Atlas had finally had enough of wondering.

"I'm very tactile by nature," Wing confirmed, leaning back a bit sheepishly. "I like to touch. Always have."

"I would appreciate if you try and keep the touching professional while Axe is around," he said with proper deference to Wing's greater rank. "And not to touch him."

The white jet nodded, still looking sheepish. "You might have to remind me now and then. I'm so used to touching others that I've gotten into the habit of touching without really thinking about it."

"I will," Dai Atlas promised, taking another drink, then sighing as his systems signaled that his primary tank was no longer pinging warnings at him. "Thank you."

The smaller white mech smiled, taking another drink from his cube. "How did you meet Axe, if I may ask?"

Dai Atlas smiled fondly at the thought of his black mate. "Technically, it was when I walked review of my newest consignment of field officers. He was fresh out of training and I was third in command to General Cicadacon. Really, though, our first _meeting_ was several centuries later in the officers' mess when everyone was getting wasted on local high grade after we crushed the rebellion on Santoes III. He's a very affectionate drunk and I wasn't inclined to turn him down."

Wing chuckled. "Interesting way to meet. That first meeting turn into a regular thing?"

"Not right away, but apparently I made an impression on him, even as overcharged as he was," Dai Atlas' grin was fond and thick with remembered pleasure. He took a long drink of his cube. "When he began to paw my wings when he wasn't overcharged he became interesting. A millennia later I flew a courting dance in the middle of a battle. We bonded right there, with laserfire and explosions around us. It was incredible."

Wing stared at the bigger mech, golden optics almost perfectly round. "In the _middle_ of a _battle_? I can just imagine what your superiors and warriors thought about _that_."

Dai Atlas laughed deeply and downed the rest of his cube. "I was already a General in my own right at the time, so only Prime and the Senate were my superiors. They thought I was utterly mad, but as long as I kept winning battles for them they didn't do more than yell at me. The warriors on _both_ sides were largely too stunned to react," he grinned excitedly at the memory. "I don't think any of them could process what they were witnessing."

The small white jet had to laugh. "After something like that, the yelling and lecturing would have gone right in one audial and out the other for me. Was there more standing around gawking than fighting for a while?"

"So I was told," the blue and white giant laughed easily. "I was not paying that much attention outside of Axe and avoiding what was directly around us."

"The gossip vine must have been churning away full-bore for quite a while after that." Wing settled back in his seat, finishing off his own cube. "Must have been quite a sight to see."

"I'm sure it was," Dai Atlas agreed. "The vids of it are impressive enough."

White audial flares visible pricked up, fanning out. "There are vids?" It took him a moment to get his eager look under control. "We don't get all the news out here, and with so few of us on walkabout at any given time, we miss out on a lot, I think."

"Yes there are vids, several hundred from what I know," he smirked at the eagerness. "Just about everybody who could capture it did, and the news crew. They got the high quality recording. I kept the best ones in my personal files."

The brightening of gold optics, the flare of white audial fins and nacelle pinions, and the thread of eagerness in the white jet's field said he would badly like to see, but he didn't say anything. Wing wasn't sure where the line between "asking" and "prying" was, and was cautious about stepping over that line. Many mechs didn't like having their personal lives pried into.

With a low chuckle Dai Atlas dissipated the empty cube. "Perhaps we'll trade vids some orn. I'm sure you have some amusing ones."

Wing grinned. "I do have some good ones. Including a few of myself I got from various members of my family, from when I was learning to fly." He dissipated his own empty cube, then stretched, flaring armor, pinions, and wings briefly. His wings wiggled briefly before resettling against his back. "We'll be heading to our new quarters for meditation after this... Have you given Axe the new door code and location yet?"

"By bond, yes," Dai Atlas nodded as he stood.

Wing nodded. "I have to retrieve my personal items from our old quarters before I head to our new one. You've got the larger of the two berthrooms, so you'll have some space to move around without constantly running into walls."

"Thank you," Dai Atlas inclined his helm. "Will you require my assistance in moving?"

The younger mech thought for a moment, then shook his helm. "I don't have that much, actually."

"Then I will see you there?" Dai Atlas suggested, settling his wings after a stretch.

Wing nodded. "I'll see you there."

S=================== S

Dai Atlas relaxed on the berth, grateful to have one large enough for himself and Axe to be comfortably close and still have open space in the room to work and move. He had few belongings, though he and Axe had everything that mattered to them. The Prime's reaction had not been a surprise and they had secured the few things that mattered to them in their subspace or on their frames. That was an advantage to their transitory existence; despite their rank, they mostly collected images, datafiles and small, easily portable things as trophies.

He could hear Wing moving about, placing items of his own in their new quarters, a place designed for much larger frames. The hum of turbines came and went, making the small white jet easy to track through the walls.

Wing hummed absently to himself as he moved about, a tune he'd picked up on his walkabout. He'd returned to the Citadel with a massive collection of music files as well as the trades he'd learned.

Looking around the room to make sure he'd gotten everything where he wanted it, adjusting the small potted crystal he was growing so it would get ample light, he spread out his meditation mat, then trotted over to peer in at his Initiate, tapping lightly on the doorframe. His Initiate was relaxing on the berth, his wings spread and quivering faintly as he watched images on a large holo-projector. Wing only had a nanoklik to see the capture of a small unit of a dozen or so military mecha posing as a group, and that didn't include Dai Atlas or Axe.

The moment Dai Atlas noted that Wing wanted his attention the projector shut down and he turned to face his instructor. "Yes, Wing?"

The white jet sidled in, tilting his helm. "It's time for the orn's meditation... Have you ever really meditated before?"

"Haven't even tried to fake it," Dai Atlas said easily and stood, unashamed of what he didn't know.

Wing chuckled. "It's something all Knights are required to do, and when it's your turn to train the next generation of Knights, you'll be teaching it, and all its various forms, to them in turn. For now, we'll start with the basics."

"Usually a good idea," Dai Atlas gave him a teasing grin and focused fully, ready to learn this new concept.

Slender white wings fluttered as the jet returned the grin. He bounced back into the main living area, where he'd set up his meditation mat. "Not everyone gets the hang of it the first time. I certainly didn't."

Dai Atlas nodded and followed, watching and listening to what was unsaid as much as to what was said.

Wing settled into a kneeling position on the mat, fluffing and resettling his armor briefly, resting his hands on his thighs. "The point of meditation is to quiet the mind, to find your calm center. It's not always easy to do the first time, but once you find it, you'll never lose it again."

Dai Atlas cocked his helm before copying Wing's posture, his frame almost reflexively attaining a neutral posture that required the least energy and component strain to maintain. "Sounds like what most of us do for weapon maintenance and polishing. You let your processors go into neutral and relax. Often it's the closest to recharge you get during battle prep or afterwards to wind down."

"We focus more on contemplation, of the things we've done and where we'd like to go in the future," Wing replied. "When I was learning, I actually fell into recharge a few times, and my Daoshi would swat the back of my helm to wake me up." He riffled his wings slightly. "But that does sound like a start."

"Are you required to write detailed reports of your own or details plans for the next?" Dai Atlas asked curiously.

Wing shook his helm. "No, nothing like that." A nacelle pinion shifted.

"Then it makes sense you'd actually need to take special time to think about it," Dai Atlas said, then seemed a bit lost. "Should I try to learn anything?"

Wing smiled slightly. "For now, no. But as you progress in your training, meditation time comes in handy to contemplate and assimilate the orn's lessons and studies."

Dai Atlas dipped his left wing in understanding and turned his helm to face forward. He easily slid into a form of trance he'd perfected long ago with the help of repetitive action, allowing his processors to clear and focus on the most important issue of the moment.

The white jet watched for a moment, then shifted his own wings, settling into his own meditative trance. While he was careful to keep a sensor and the edge of his field on his Initiate, both to keep track of his state and in case something went wrong, he had been doing this long enough that it came easily to him. He was half surprised at how easily Dai Atlas settled, but he wasn't surprised by the somewhat random ripples of negativity. As little as he knew about the older mech, he did know enough to realize that the old soldier had experienced many terrible things, and likely done many terrible things as well.

Wing's armor ruffled as the young jet came out of trance, golden optics warming up and engine idle rising in pitch slightly. The white jet shifted ever so slightly, his energy field stretching out to mingle lightly with Dai Atlas.

"If you are finished, you can come out of trance now." Wing reached out to carefully brush one hand against a large dark forearm.

"Are _all_ Knights required to go out on a walkabout?" Dai Atlas asked even before his optics focused on the real world.

"Usually, they are," the compact jet replied. "However, on occasion mechs are granted an exemption to that rule if there are extenuating circumstances." He tilted his helm at Dai Atlas. "I can't see the Sovereign _not_ granting you one, since the whole Citadel is aware of what could happen if you venture outside the Citadel walls."

A wisp of tension evaporated as Dai Atlas inclined his helm in understanding. "Good. It would be a shame for you to spend so much time training me only to find out that I will never advance past a Knight in rank."

Wing nodded. "The Sovereign and the Masters will most likely find an alternate way for you to advance from Knight to Senior Knight. One that won't require risking your existence or losing a Knight with a great deal of potential."

"If not, perhaps the next Prime will pardon us. I have served four Primes. I will outlive this one as well." Dai Atlas said evenly, red optics focused on Wing's golden. "I did not accept your offer simply to advance in the ranks."

Wing inclined his helm in acknowledgement. "It will be a long time before the situation comes up; we shall see what happens in the meantime."

"Agreed," Dai Atlas said easily and stood with a smooth grace that came from intimate knowledge of his own frame, learned in much the same way as a Knight did. "What is next?"

"The orn's training is done, we just finished our meditation, so now you can recharge, or study the laws and customs of the Knights and Citadel, or resume what I interrupted before we meditated. This is your free time." Wing rose to his pedes, stretching from helm to pede, getting several popping sounds from various places under his armor. "I myself am going to get some recharge."

~I'm done for the orn,~ Dai Atlas reached out to his mate even as he nodded to Wing, watching the Knight retreat to his berthroom before retiring to his own.

~I just finished up, too,~ Axe replied. ~Was stuck in one of the storage units again this orn. But at least it wasn't oil or grease this time.~

~Come up and I'll clean you up,~ he purred, letting it slip in that he intended far more than just cleaning.

~Be right there,~ was the response, anticipation threading through the words.

S=================== S

"Ah, there you are," a deep, rich voice Axe recognized from his first full orn here and the oil storage silos drew his attention from the processor numbing but very important small parts inventory he was doing.

Axe looked up from the box of parts he'd just finished with, setting it back in place and reaching for the next. It was the red Knight who had accompanied Wing on that first orn. "Here I am, indeed." The black mech straightened, stretching to try and work out a kink in his back.

"How are you getting along with Supplicant work?" Atl leaned against a shelf and relaxed, simply watching the black and gold giant.

"I'm settling back into it," Axe replied, putting the new box of parts down and looking into it. "Before Dai and I came here, I hadn't done this kind of work in a long time. It takes some readjusting."

"I'm sure," Atl nodded. "You're both adjusting far faster and better than most were expecting. I believe only Dart and the Sovereign weren't surprised."

The big triple changer snorted. "Most mecha here seem to fit Dai and myself into the category of the rank-spoiled upper command officers who never lift a finger to do anything for themselves if they have any way to avoid it. We always did everything for ourselves and we're not afraid of getting our hands dirty."

"You are right about that," Atl nodded with a faint smile. "What little news we get rarely speaks of command officers that work, or fight. I'm afraid most mecha here are here because the outside sickens them. It takes time for an outsider to be accepted. You're both doing a good job of making a positive impression on most."

"We fought, and we did all our own work. There are many officers that do live up to the stereotypes, but myself and my mate are not among them." Axe looked at the smaller mech for a moment. "I'm not certain I ever caught your designation."

"Senior Knight Atl," he introduced himself. "I'm sure you were a terror to those officers who were used to a soft existence before they transferred to your unit."

The black and gold mech gave Atl a wicked grin. "After a couple of decaorns in our unit, they generally wished they could transfer back to where they came from. Once I managed to come up behind the whole group and startle them almost literally out of their armor."

"Oh, you will be a terror of the best kind when you have some rank around here," Atl laughed easily and brightly. "Maybe Dart will finally move on from being Archon. He's entirely too good to pass it on to just anyone."

Axe's grin widened. "I probably will be. Definitely something to look forward to."

"Have you given any thought to what you want to be in the Citadel?" he asked smoothly.

Axe leaned against the table. "It has occurred to me to follow my mate's example and try to become a Knight, though apparently for that I have to be chosen as a trainee by someone who's already a Knight. Beyond that, I'm not sure."

"Most crafts are here; this is a self-contained city of sorts, though a small one," Atl said. "Most are done by Knights, but about two thirds of the mecha here are not Knights. You can be almost anything. Builder, artisan, medic, full-time creator/caretaker ... or simply take care of your mate. Once he's a Knight he'll have the funds to support you, if that is what you chose."

Black armor ruffled. "I'm not the type to just sit on my aft and do nothing. I would go stir-crazy within a decaorn. What I would prefer would be to be with my mate as an equal, not as his dependent. And I'm not even sure I have any talent for crafting. I was sparked for war; fighting is pretty much all I have ever done."

"If you ask, many of the crafters here would be willing to take on a student," Atl suggested. "Our weapon crafters are some of the finest to exist. Or you can focus on attracting a Knight ready to train ... which is basically everyone who spends much time checking out the Supplicants."

"I've seen you checking out the Supplicants," Axe pointed out, raising an optic rim. "As well as a number of others. How to go about attracting one, though..."

Atl chuckled and smiled at the larger mech. "Work hard, don't complain unduly, keep your finish up when you aren't working, show an interest in learning ... and less obvious things. If you want to be a Knight, you'll be offered the chance. May or may not be myself offering, though someone will. You do have the qualities. It's more a matter of the personal connection that needs to be made now. The relationship between a Knight and their Initiate is a very close one; training is a long, intense and intimate processes. It's critical that the pair get along and can understand each other. It is not uncommon for a Knight to feel out a Supplicant for a century or more before making the offer."

Axe tilted his helm to the side. "Wing seemed to pick out Dai Atlas quite quickly... Something tells me he's more the exception to the rule?" The dark mech made note of the rest of Atl's advice, filing it away in his processor. Through his mate he had seen Wing's swordwork, what Dai Atlas was being taught, and had listened in as Wing had told the blue mech about the Knights. Axe wanted to be part of that.

"Wing is the exception in many ways," Atl smiled fondly for his friend. "Though in this case, it is not without precedent. Occasionally the connection is made that quickly. It is not often, but it happens." He suddenly paused, then grinned and shook his head with a chuckle. "Come. We can talk as we walk. Wing wants to show me something."

Axe glanced at the parts he had been doing inventory on, making note of how far he'd gotten, then pushed away from the table and followed the smaller mech. "Wing sounds like quite a character. I look forward to getting to know him as much as I can. Did he say what he wants to show you?"

"No, but given the time it likely involves your mate," Atl said as they left the storeroom. "They should be together."

Axe made a thoughtful humming sound. Then something else occurred to him, and blue optics narrowed at the red Knight. "You described the training process as 'intense and intimate'. What, exactly, did you mean by 'intimate'?"

"What you learn about each other is often very personal," Atl explained easily. "There will be few secrets an Initiate has that their Knight does not learn by the time training is complete. Most Initiates also learn much about their Knight that few have access to as well. As sensual as Wing is, they won't interface unless Dai Atlas wants and agrees to it. There are very strict rules about what lines are simply not to be crossed. The penance for doing so..." he shuddered. "Let's just say it's deterrent enough if the moral line isn't."

Axe considered that. He didn't like the thought of sharing his mate, but he rather doubted Dai Atlas would ever agree to it. The black mech didn't say it, though. "Dare I ask what the penance would be for crossing those lines?"

Atl twitched as they entered the main building of the Citadel. "It begins with pain until the Sovereign _believes_ you regret your actions for the right reasons. Meditation on why you did it. Sometimes ... the Knight in question never comes back from the penance chamber."

The black mech stared at him in silence for a long moment. "I can see there will be a great deal for me to learn during my time here." He looked around as they walked through the corridors. "Where are Wing and Dai Atlas?"

"In training room three," Atl said, motioning to a door ahead of them. "I'm sure you have much to learn, if you intend to be a Knight. Much to unlearn as well."

"Would not surprise me in the least. The rules seem to be very different here. It certainly promises to be interesting, though." Axe looked ahead to the door, wondering what lay behind it. Their bond said little; his mate was calm and focused.

Atl palmed the door open and chuckled softly as he walked in, Axe behind him with a clear view of Dai Atlas, two practice blades in hand, holding an odd angle, overbalanced on one pede. Wing was a few paces away, walking around him.

"Can you believe he hasn't so much as quivered in over a joor?" The white jet looked up at his friend.

Axe snickered, sauntering over to his mate and walking around him. "He gets into the most awkward positions sometimes... Some even odder than this."

"_This_ time I'm under orders," Dai Atlas rumbled at his mate. "Don't pretend you get in any fewer odd places."

There was a wicked, mischievous look in Axe's blue optics as he walked around his mate. Tilting his helm, he looked sidelong at Wing, lifting an optic rim.

What promptly came through the bond was an emphatic sense of "don't even _think_ about it!", to which Axe responded with an innocent look.

"A full joor and then some?" Atl raised an optic ridge at Wing. "I don't think you can manage that even now," he added with something of a dare in his voice. "Just remember, Axe, that he'll get a chance to mess with you."

Axe's grin was wicked. "I look forward to it."

Sauntering over to his glowering mate, Axe began trailing his fingertips over blue plating, going for all the places he knew would distract Dai Atlas. The larger mech's response was a squawk of protest, but he didn't move.

At least, not yet.

Wing snorted as he watched. "I'm not going to take that dare. Unless I'm meditating or undergoing a binding, you know I can't hold still. I even squirm in my recharge."

"Among other things," Dai Atlas retorted, growling at his mate. ~If you earn me a punishment you aren't getting any for a decaorn after I recover!~

Axe chuckled deep in his throat at that, managing to bat his optics at the fuming Dai Atlas. ~Are you sure _you_ can go that long without touching me?~ he purred challengingly, finding a spot right under the base of one long wing that he _knew_ never failed to make the larger mech wobble, even when he was standing normally on both pedes.

The big blue and white mech could only snarl as his frame reacted to that touch. His wings flared, as did his armor, silently pleading for _more_ from the hands that knew him so well.

"And this is what you can look forward to when you find a lover worth keeping," Atl commented in distinct amusement as he watched the ancient couple.

Wing was laughing out loud as he watched, optics bright with interest. He wouldn't punish Dai Atlas; not for this. This was no more than a check on his ability to be still, not a test he could pass or fail. Not that the Initiate needed to know that yet.

Axe sidled closer, sliding his fingers under armor plating, aiming directly for the places that got the best reactions. Already he could feel Dai Atlas trembling ever so slightly, and the black mech's grin widened. This was so much fun.

Wide white and blue wings flared and flapped as Dai Atlas' engine roared in response, but still the large mech remained in pose. ~I'm going to get even with you, youngster.~

~Oh, really?~ Axe purred in response, his voice sultry through the bond. ~Is that a promise?~ One hand went for the wing joints as the black and gold triple changer circled around behind Dai Atlas again, one hand gliding along the leading edge of a wide wing.

He made it just around the other wing before Dai Atlas snarled, twisted and tackled him, slamming him on the ground as Dai Atlas' entire frame vibrated with need.

Axe grinned cheekily up at his glaring mate, wriggling under him teasingly. ~Made you move,~ the black mech chirped, quite pleased with himself.

Wing clapped both hands over his mouth to muffle his laughter, not wanting to distract the pair. He doubted they'd care about an audience at this point, but better stay quiet anyway, just in case. He did not want to miss this.

~Yes, you did,~ he growled in response and claimed Axe's mouth. ~And now you'd better _finish_ what you started before those two decide to stop us.~

Gray-fingered black hands were all over blue plating as Axe let out a purring chuckle. Around one spread wing Axe caught a glimpse of the two Knights watching with interest, neither appearing the least inclined to intervene.

~Your wish is my command,~ Axe crooned, sneaking his fingers into wing joints and transformation seams. One black-plated leg slid against Dai Atlas' in open invitation.

A low, deep moan escaped the larger triple changer as he pressed into the contact. Yet for all his outward willingness, internally he was a bit annoyed ... as much as he loved it, he also _hated_ how easily his mate could break his decorum. His spike slipped free as he gave up any real resistance to making a display of who Axe belonged to.

Axe chuckled as he caught that thought and the annoyance. ~Mate's privilege,~ was the unrepentant reply. Gold-trimmed black legs wrapped around Dai Atlas' hips, Axe's valve already bared and dripping, anticipating the slightly-too-big spike he'd become quite addicted to.

~As is this,~ Dai Atlas growled, nipping at Axe's throat as he drove his spike in deep in a single thrust. Unlike most times, he didn't give either of them time to adjust or relish the sensation of the slick valve tight around the large, thick, ridged spike. This time the withdraw and thrust came immediately, the pace only picking up as the pleasure crashed through them both.

Axe cried out at the swift penetration, managing to keep his voice down, clinging to his mate's frame as the pleasure sizzled through his sensor net. His hands were everywhere they could reach, working along wide white wings, sliding under blue plating. His hips rocked into each thrust, his hips meeting Dai Atlas' with a clang.

"Mine," Dai Atlas growled into a demanding kiss as his thrusts sped up, the first tingling of overload swelling from his spike.

"Yours," Axe gasped out in response, hooking his fingers into an armor seam, his fingertips gliding lightly over the underlying circuitry. A moan escaped the black mech, his hips matching the pace Dai Atlas set, his own overload rapidly bearing down on him. He keened into his mate's roar as the sudden rush of charged transfluid slammed into his valve nodes and electricity danced between their frames.

::We're going to have our work cut out for us keeping them on track if they train together,:: Atl said evenly.

::Definitely,:: Wing replied, his armor fluffed out and wings fluttering behind him. After watching that, he'd need to find some relief later.

Axe clung to Dai Atlas' larger frame as he rode out their overload, optics flaring almost white. Once his joints unlocked, he sank back against the floor, armor flared out and venting heavily.

Dai Atlas glanced at the Knights, noted their reactions, and began to roll his hips again. ~You aren't getting off that easily, my little black bird.~

"If he can hold still for over a joor, I wonder how long they can keep this up?" Atl wondered out loud.

Axe's chuckle was both out loud and through their bond, one hand reaching back to hook into a wing joint, flirting with the mechanisms that extended Dai Atlas' wings. ~I look forward to the full extent of my "punishment",~ he purred, nipping at his mate's chin.

"It's going to be interesting to find out." Wing sidled a bit closer to Atl, his field extending to brush against the larger red mech's, expressing just how affected he was by what they were seeing.

"How about we find out if you can watch without touching until they can't move," Atl purred at his friend, golden optics glittering with teasing mischief even as his field told Wing that he was no less affected by what they were watching.

"You're mean," Wing mock-whined, his optics going back to the show. His wings were wiggling wildly, trying to dissipate the charge building in their joints and along their smooth panels.

"Disciplined," Atl countered with a rumbling chuckle.

S=================== S

Seven orns had come and gone since Axe had disrupted Dai Atlas' efforts to be still. The younger mech was still doing Supplicant work and Dai Atlas' orns with Wing had settled into something of a routine. Get up before dawn, make sure he was presentable, have energon with Wing in the common room. Sometimes other Knights, with or without Initiates, would join them, but not always. Then to training in katas and a joor or two of data studies on any number of subjects that Dai Atlas hadn't been educated on in the military. After the evening energon in the common room they would retire to their quarters and meditate. Then Dai Atlas would be free to clean up, spend time with Axe or whatever he wished to do, which was generally get as much recharge as he could manage.

The previous orn katas had been cut short by a joor for Dai Atlas to learn to polish his practice blades and watch Wing sharpen his short swords.

This orn the giant knew something was up, though it was now past evening energon and the routine had not yet broken as they entered their quarters.

Wing took his Great Sword from his back, setting the blade into a bracket on the wall. Humming softly to himself, he walked over to a mostly-unnoticed or usually ignored cabinet on the wall, opening it. Over his shoulder Dai Atlas could see neatly-arranged spools of what looked like cord lined up on the shelves, each spool a different color.

Despite Wing's efforts to get him to speak more, training to keep his vocalizer mute when out of his depth was as old as Dai Atlas was and didn't break easily under the gentle pressure Wing applied to his Initiate. Instead the giant watched intently, his body language that of curiosity but offering nothing more.

After a moment of thought, the jet selected a spool of gleaming white cord. Closing the cabinet, he turned to Dai Atlas, gesturing for his Initiate to join him.

"I believe I have mentioned that the meditation we perform every orn is only the most basic form," Wing said after a moment. "This orn, it will be a little different."

Dai Atlas inclined his helm in understanding and acceptance. Even at this range and with the promise he was only curious, not fearful as many Initiates were.

"I will be undergoing this form of meditation; you will be keeping watch this time. I would rather you watch the first time, to get an idea of what to expect the first time you undergo it." Wing held up the spool, uncoiling some of the cord. "This cord is used for the binding."

"I've heard of restraint used in many ways, good and bad, but never for meditation," Dai Atlas admitted, now keenly interested.

"This is the milder form of binding meditation. Binding meditations are also used as penances, and those can be a quite disturbing to watch the first time." Wing handed Dai Atlas the spool, raising his arms, wrists slightly apart. "There is an art to tying the bindings; that I will be teaching you later, as well as the meanings of the various colors of cord."

Dai Atlas nodded absently as he studied the cord as he would a new weapon or piece of armor. "What is the goal of the binding?"

"Symbolism," Wing replied. He tilted his wrists slightly, waiting patiently.

Another nod and Dai Atlas began with a simple infinity loop containing Wing's forearms, then worked his way up to the wrist joint with the meticulous care usually only given to his weapons or plans. When he was done, Wing looked down at a reasonable interpretation of the design on the floor of the great council chamber along each forearm, though he was sure his Initiate had picked up the symbol of the Knights of Light from elsewhere about the Citadel.

"Acceptable?" Dai Atlas asked.

Wing's smile was bright. "It is." He fluttered his wings slightly before walking over to where his Great Sword was bracketed. "Every binding meditation is different; I can't predict what you will see this time. When I come out of it, I will signal you to release the bindings."

"Understood," Dai Atlas said, and Wing had no doubt that he did.

The young jet smiled at Dai Atlas again, then hooked his bound wrists over the hilt of his Great Sword, sinking to his knees before it. Gold optics dimmed as Wing sank into a meditative trance, the gem in the hilt of the Sword flaring once before dimming.

It ranked up there with one of the odder things Dai Atlas has seen, at least from his own perspective, though he'd seen enough in his long functioning to recognize that many rituals he understood the reasoning behind and felt were normal would be utterly bizarre to much of the non-military mecha out there.

This ... reminded him of the priests he'd met over the vorns. Ritual that perhaps did not remember what function it served.

For the most part, Wing remained still. Every now and then he would shift, wings twitching against his back, and a soft sound would escape. Once he murmured something, but too softly for Dai Atlas to make out any words. Armor plates ruffled slightly before settling, and Wing returned to stillness.

After a breem Dai Atlas unsubspaced his maintenance kit and began to work on his finish. It wasn't really what he paid attention to, simply something to make efficient use of the time. At this point in his existence he knew his frame well enough to bring himself to parade finish completely blind and in pain ... and had done so.

Wing squirmed slightly, hands twitching against the hilt of the Great Sword, a low keen escaping his vocalizer. That was enough to focus Dai Atlas' attention fully on the white jet, though he merely stilled to watch. After a long moment, Wing resettled, half-spread wings trembling behind him and Dai Atlas went back to his plating.

The position Wing was holding would become a painful before much longer thanks to the extent of the binding that went nearly to his elbows. It was something they were both well aware of, though Dai Atlas hadn't known that when he made the binding.

He would for next time. He didn't know what other positions might be used, but he was sure many would cause that kind of strain. With a grim thought he calculated how much it would hurt and compared it to what else he had suffered. It would be unpleasant, but nothing compared to getting a wing blasted off and no medical care for more than four orns.

Wing endured the building pain for more than a joor, his black hands slowly turning a faded gray due to lack of energon flow. His wings were flopped out behind him, almost touching the floor, trembling from bases to tips.

Finally, his field reached out to brush against Dai Atlas', signaling that the small white jet was ready for release.

Dai Atlas moved quickly but smoothly, all too familiar with caring for the injured. He lifted Wing up and off the guard of his Great Sword bodily, using his much greater height and mass to maneuver the smaller mech to lie on his front on the floor. The binding was removed with swift precision without cutting and Dai Atlas went to work massaging the graying hands back to life.

Wing made a soft sound, his trembling wings slowly folding against his back again. Cold, grayed hands twitched as power and energon flows resumed. After a moment, the smaller mech squirmed sideways until his shoulder came into contact with his Initiate's leg before he settled again. The contact was permitted, then accepted as Dai Atlas continued to work Wing's hands until they were black once more.

The white jet stayed where he was for a moment, flexing his hands slowly before pushing himself up to a sitting position. He settled close to the larger blue mech, but not quite touching him, tilting his helm to look up at Dai Atlas.

With a low huff the giant reached out to draw his tactile teacher again him. "I'm not that cruel."

Wing murmured a soft "thank you," leaning against warm blue armor. His body language and field making it clear he wasn't looking for anything else, he rested his helm against Dai Atlas' armor and closed his optics, remaining silent for a few kliks.

"You have questions?" he asked finally, not pulling away.

"Is it truly that much more effective than normal meditation?" Dai Atlas asked, his field making it clear that was just the beginning.

"A mech can learn a great deal about himself from a binding meditation," Wing replied. "The experience is never the same twice. On occasion it can be disturbing to watch, other times much less so." He settled in, content to answer any questions Dai Atlas had as long as he didn't have to move away from warm blue armor.

The giant hummed slightly. "I doubt anything this place can come up with will qualify as disturbing to me. What did you seek to learn this time?"

"Whatever I still have to teach myself," was the response. An audial flare shifted slightly, then Wing sent a databurst of one of his own past bindings. The white jet had been writhing in his bindings, the red cords standing out against white armor, moans rising to spark-tearing shrieks, heartrending sobs, incoherent pleas. Even the Senior Knight who had been watching over him had been more than slightly disturbed that time.

"Contemplating loss?" Dai Atlas guessed, no sign that he found it notably disturbing in his field or frame.

"Red cord... It means emotion." Wing tilted his helm to look up into Dai Atlas' red optics. "I've always been too emotional for my own good."

"I have noticed," Dai Atlas chuckled softly. "I've known your kind before. Sometimes mecha learn to use it to their advantage. Others crash and burn from it." He considered the gradually relaxing mech all but in his lap. "Are bindings always distressing?"

"Sometimes they are. Other times, they are quite enlightening." The last of the trembling finally subsided, Wing's slicked-down plating loosening on his frame. He still made no move to pull away, and Dai Atlas did not try to remove him.

"What does white stand for?" he asked next, thoughtful and considering as he shared this fully with his mate now that Axe was done for the orn.

"Intensity, purity," Wing answered. He shifted slightly, a wing flicking and resettling.

Axe looked through his mate's optics at the white form cuddling into Dai Atlas' blue plating, and his reaction was an amused "awwwww, that's cute."

~Cute enough to share me with?~ Dai Atlas asked with a surge of creator protocols, memories of their other charges curled between them after their first bad trauma flaring up.

Agreement flowed through the bond. ~Yes, he can stay with us. I like him.~ The black and gold mech touched down on the balcony a couple of kliks later, his armor slightly dusty. Walking in, Axe crouched down next to the pair, smiling at the sight.

~This is going to be a very strange relationship, him and me,~ Dai Atlas mused. "Come, Wing. It's time to recharge," he said as he scooped the white jet up and stood in one smooth motion.

~Strange, but definitely interesting,~ Axe agreed, rising to his pedes.

Wing shifted into Dai Atlas' arms, leaning against the broad black chest and letting himself be carried. Gold optics were already dimming, only distantly aware as he was settled between two large, warm frames and two fields mingled with his own, offering comfort and security. Wing sighed deeply, curling into the warmth of those two frames, accepting the comfort they offered. Snuggling into the dual embrace, the small white jet let recharge pull him under.

S=================== S

White armor stirred, signaling the young jet's booting up. Wing stirred slightly, purring as he snuggled closer to the warm shape next to him.

It took a few kliks for his processor to boot up all the way and realize that the warm shape he was cuddled up against was another mech's frame, a mech _much_ larger that he was. The other mech's field completely surrounded the small white jet's, wrapping him in comforting warmth.

Gold optics warmed up as their covers slid back, the young mech blinking blearily as he tried to figure out who that comfortingly warm frame belonged to. Black armor, then a section of red. Swaths of light blue and white came next before amusement flickered in the field around his and he met large red optics.

"Good morning, Wing," Dai Atlas' deep voice rumbled through them. "Recharge well?"

Wing's optics widened, and he stared into his Initiate's red optics for a long moment. He didn't recall much more than answering the larger mech's questions the previous evening. Waking up to find himself sprawled on top of Dai Atlas was more than a little startling.

Startling or not, he was too comfortable to want to move from where he lay.

"Good morning, and yes, I did." Wing stretched from helm to pede, wings flaring out and fluttering a few times before he settled back down with a soft purr. "I'm a bit lost on how I got here, though..."

"After I untied you, you pretty much latched onto me," the big mech chuckled. "It was cute enough that Axe didn't mind you spending the night with me. It felt like you needed it," he said more seriously. "Axe would have stayed, but it's not our night together."

The white jet looked sheepish. "I'm always like that after a binding; I didn't think to warn you about that. Yes, I did need the contact." He debated internally for a moment, then slid up Dai Atlas' torso to press a quick, chaste kiss to his cheek. "Thank you for letting me stay."

"You are welcome," warm affection laced with a protective thread Wing hadn't felt since his creators had rejected him warmed him through their mingled fields. "Axe thinks it was adorable, by the way. Is there someone I should call next time, or is this enough?"

Wing pondered for a moment. "Either Atl or Thorn. They know best how to handle me after a binding." He chewed his lower lip for a moment. "There will be some times, after some bindings, like the one I showed you last night, where the feeling of safety and security is more important. Those are more likely to be the times I would latch onto you no matter who else is around and not want to let go for a while."

"I understand," Dai Atlas murmured, reaching up to stroke a large hand down Wing's back. "You are welcome here when you need it, so long as all you wish is to snuggle. Anything more and I'll call one of your lovers."

Gratitude spread through Wing's field. The young jet leaned into Dai Atlas' hand, purring as it ran over his folded wings. Wing put his helm back down, not wanting to move.

A soft chuckled vibrated them lightly as fingers long used to winged forms turned their attention to stroking Z-folded wings, careful to keep it comforting rather than sensual. Wing practically melted at the petting, his wings slowly unfolding, presenting more surfaces to be stroked. Purring, Wing relaxed, optics dimming in utter contentment.

Amused, Dai Atlas reached out to his mate to share the scene, and their new charge's confusion when he woke up.

Axe paused in his chores, amusement flowing back through the bond at the confusion. The amusement doubled as Axe saw the puddle of jet Wing was becoming as his wings were stroked.

~That's even more cute,~ the black and gold triple changer laughed. ~And from his field, that's not even a sensual touch to him.~

~A good thing too,~ he rumbled in amusement, his strokes continuing. ~I wonder if this works when he's standing. It could prove _useful_.~

~I would bet that if you tried that while he's standing, he'd fall over and you'd have to catch him,~ Axe snickered.

Wing was practically strutless on black plating, as melted into a contented little puddle as he could possibly get. If Dai Atlas' hand stopped, white wings would stretch toward it, wiggling, begging for the petting to resume. The young jet was purring so loudly he was almost vibrating.

~Should I see if he'll stay put until you get done for the orn?~ Dai Atlas asked with a flare of amusement.

Axe snorted. ~From the look of him, he would gladly spend the entire orn like that. You'll probably have to push him off if you want to move, and I would bet good credits he has a particularly devastating pleading look in his arsenal.~

~As if Quiverstrike and Tango didn't?~ Dai Atlas reminded his mate. ~Or you, for that matter. But yes, I'm sure he does.~

~You've got a point,~ Axe agreed. ~And you're going to be spending the orn in that position from the look of him. Unless you feel the need to chance The Look. If you two are still like that when I'm finished here, I'm taking image captures for my personal files.~

~I don't doubt it,~ Dai Atlas actually laughed across the bond, though it was swirling with conflicting emotions. Joy at having a new charge. Trepidation at the expectation he'd out-live another charge. Uncertainty that he could take the loss again so soon. Grief at the long list of those he'd raised, trained and watched extinguish under his command or elsewhere.

Axe's thoughts wrapped around Dai Atlas', the closest he could get to a comforting embrace without actually being physically present. ~Maybe, just maybe, it will be different this time,~ he murmured. ~The Knights do not fight if they can at all avoid it, and once they are Senior Knights they don't even leave the Citadel grounds. There's no _reason_ for anything to happen to him.~

~Only so long as no one who knows about the price on our helms finds out we are here,~ Dai Atlas shuddered slightly and curled into the support. His hand never stopped stroking Wing's limp wings, not truly wishing to burden the relative youth with this truth. ~Prime would obliterate the entire Citadel to ensure we extinguished.~

~We were very thorough in hiding our escape from the city, and very few know where the Citadel is,~ Axe pointed out. ~But you are right. However, that doesn't mean a mech can't hope for the best, for us and for the jetling we've apparently adopted.~

Wing shifted slightly, leaning into the petting. His helm rested on Dai Atlas' chest, right over his spark. Contentment and utter bliss swept through his field.

It was difficult not to be soothed by it, and Dai Atlas wasn't one to reject being soothed when he wanted it. ~Yes, a mech can hope for the best, as long as we plan and prepare for the worst.~

S=================== S

Dai Atlas had gratefully drifted into recharge with the contentment-oozing Wing on top of him, intending to take advantage of the break as much as he could. Despite that, he was bolt upright, on his pedes, wings flared and in a hand-to-hand combat crouch with Wing rolled off onto the berth behind him when his ever-on proximity sensors noted a mech come into the room that wasn't Axe.

Red optics flared brightly, the processors behind them not truly on line yet beyond the basic combat protocols.

Wing squawked in surprise at the sudden movement, flailing as he tried to get his balance back. Wide golden optics took in the blue mech's stance, then noticed the mech in the doorway. Scrabbling for a grip on the berth, Wing managed to get his balance and throw himself forward, practically onto Dai Atlas' back. "It's okay! That's Thorn!"

The slim black Knight had wisely backed off, keeping his distance. He eyed Dai Atlas with the respectful wariness an old warrior deserved, raising his hands to indicate he was not a threat.

Within a few nanokliks it was over as the higher functions of Dai Atlas' processors had time to finish rebooting and take in the situation. Gradually he relaxed his stance.

"My apologies, Knight Thorn," Dai Atlas offered the formal tones he didn't use with Wing anymore. "Reflexes don't shut off easily."

"I understand," the slim black Knight with gold and glowing red markings smiled shyly. "I was concerned when you and Wing didn't show up to train."

Wing remained where he was for a moment, shifting so he wasn't on either of Dai Atlas' wings and looking over the larger mech's shoulder. "My fault. I spent the night curled up on top of him after a binding meditation last evening, and he discovered by accident that I melt when my wings are petted."

"And the smart Initiate he is, he took advantage of it to get a few extra joors recharge," Thorn chuckled lightly. "As long as everything's okay, I'll be going."

Finally letting go and dropping off Dai Atlas' back, Wing came around the larger mech, one wing flaring out to lightly touch blue armor. "Everything's fine. But next time, call first?"

"I will," he gave Dai Atlas a wary optic. "Normally you don't have such an aggressive guard in the berth with you."

Wing bristled. "He's taken and was off-limits before I chose him as my Initiate. You know how much I crave contact, any contact, after a binding."

Thorn flared his black veined, golden wings in apology and surprise. "Usually that contact is for more than a snuggle and you know it. I don't doubt he can tell you no, but I know how hard that is when you _need_."

White armor settled slowly. "He has a bonded mate, which makes him off-limits. Besides, considering how much bigger than me he is, I doubt anything would be possible anyway. Cuddling he's fine with; for anything more, he'll call you or Atl to pry me off."

"I'm sure between Axe and myself we are perfectly capable of restraining Wing even if he isn't capable of recognizing what he's doing," Dai Atlas added, then gave Wing a teasing look. "Though I know from experience that a great deal is capable despite the size difference."

Wing made a face at him, but the field brushing against Dai Atlas' expressed only amusement. "I'll take your word for that."

Thorn couldn't help but laugh. "Oh, you are going to have a time with this one, Wing," he smiled at his friend before turning to leave. "Good luck."

"It's certainly going to be interesting," Wing retorted, watching the taller black mech leave. "But I look forward to it!"

"We'll see how long that lasts," Dai Atlas turned a bit more serious. "Energon, then back to kata practice?"

Wing poked Dai Atlas teasingly with a wingtip. "Might as well get back to it. Unless you would rather spend the rest of the orn petting my wings." He grinned up at the blue mech, then walked out into the main room.

S=================== S

Axe sank gratefully into his mate's berth, content with the warmth of his mate on top of him, the heat of Dai Atlas' transfluid inside him and the crackling pulse of their overloads just beginning to fade.

The blue mech purred as he leaned down to capture Axe's lips in a kiss, his red optics meeting his mate's blue. Feeling completely disinclined to move, he took his time shifting off the black and gold mech, eventually only sliding off to his side. It left one wing nearly touching the floor and the other well towards the ceiling, but it was as far as he went.

"Any hint as to who might take you on?" Dai Atlas asked lazily.

"There are three mechs who seem to be going out of their way to spend extra time with me," Axe replied, shifting to lean against Dai Atlas' chest. "Atl, Dart and Blueflash. It could be any one of those three."

Dai Atlas hummed. "Do you have a preference between them?"

"I will do my best to work with whoever decides to take me as an Initiate," Axe replied. "That said, I'm leaning more toward Atl or Dart. Not particularly struck on Blueflash."

"Because you want to avoid someone who can chase you skyside?" Dai Atlas teased with a nuzzle.

"So speaks the mech whose teacher can fly rings around him," Axe teased back, nipping at the tip of Dai Atlas' nose. "And no, that's not why. There's just something about him, I'm not entirely sure what."

The larger mech nodded his understanding. Gut instincts were something they had both learned to trust implicitly over their long existences. "It'll likely be Atl, I'd bet on it."

"Atl I like. If he takes me on, working with him will certainly be interesting. Maybe not as interesting as what you have with Wing, but interesting nonetheless." Axe grinned. "Speaking of, I do wish I had been able to get an image capture of him sprawled across your chest, completely blissed out."

"It can be repeated anytime you're ready," Dai Atlas chuckled. "Apparently it's one of his great weaknesses, and he's shameless about indulging with a willing petter."

The black mech's amusement swirled through their bond, echoing Axe's laugh. "Definitely a most interesting mech, our jetling. You're going to have quite an interesting time training with him."

"I already am," he agreed. "Have you given much thought to what I showed you of binding meditation?"

Axe nodded. "I've been pondering it most of the orn. From what I understand it's something that has to be learned and undergone, though I can't say I'm eager to experience it myself. Has Wing made of any mention of when you might be expected to undergo it for the first time?"

"Soon," he rumbled. "Either your next night to stay, or the decaorn after. I have no idea what I'm going to be like, if it even works for me, but I'll probably need some kind of attention."

Axe leaned in for a nuzzle. "I will be here for it, that I promise." Determination seeped through their bond as Axe rested his helm against his beloved's shoulder.

"As I will be there for you," he promised. "Have you seen either of your potential Knights fight yet?"

"I caught a few glimpses of Atl sparring with another Knight," Axe replied. "Haven't seen Dart yet. Watching Dart fight should be interesting. He's one of the smallest Knights I've seen, so his style would be something to see if he has to keep even with his rank-mates."

"Is he impressive?" Dai Atlas asked, honestly curious. The single match he'd witnessed was Wing against a dark burgundy femme of the same frametype and Wing had been trounced, though Dai Atlas had been an instructor long enough to recognize that the match had been severely mismatched from the beginning. Marwir carried herself as a true master, and the database listed her not only as a Master Knight, but Wing's Daoshi, his instructor.

"It was quite impressive to see," Axe agreed. "It's a skill I would be quite willing to learn. I haven't met many mecha who use twin swords the way the Knights do."

"And _he_ kicks aft," Dai Atlas chuckled in memory of the even larger triple changer that went by Titanium. "I wonder if he trained here."

"It's possible, though the style of the Knights looks different than what he used." Axe shrugged slightly. "We could always ask one of the older Knights. And recalling that he did kick serious aft makes me even more eager to learn."

"You have even more work ahead of you than I do," Dai Atlas rumbled, leaning over for a kiss. "Adapting all this to your ax."

"It might be more work, but it's work of a type I look forward to. Once I have my ax again." Axe returned the kiss, one hand sneaking around a blue shoulder to stroke the cables in the back of his mate's neck.

A low hum of agreement and Dai Atlas gave up on talking and turned his attention back to enjoying his mate's frame before the black and gold mech had to leave for the night.

S=================== S

Axe touched down on the balcony of the quarters Dai Atlas shared with Wing, walking inside. The white jet looked up, smiling at him, as he set the Great Sword he carried on his back into a bracket on the wall.

Spotting his mate, Axe walked over to lean against him. ~Are you ready for this?~

~As I'll ever be,~ he replied, the _not understanding_ he felt towards what was going to happen thick between them.

Axe rested his helm against Dai Atlas' shoulder, watching as Wing checked the height of the Sword, then moved over to the cabinet. The white jet debated for a long moment, then picked up a spool of pink cord and closed the cabinet. Holding the cord, he turned to face the two larger mechs, tilting his helm slightly.

Without a word Dai Atlas stepped forward and knelt so he offered his forearms at Wing's level. As uneasy as he was, it wasn't about what might happen, but if _nothing_ happened. As short as his time had been, he's already grasped how critical the bindings and spirituality were to these mecha. It was something he'd spent the better part of four Primes of service not even considering.

Quick fingers created an elegant yet simple binding between Dai Atlas' wrists, the knotting swift and ornate. Wing flicked a loop near Dai Atlas' white fingers, looking up to meet red optics. "This will release some slack into the binding if the compression becomes too tight."

"Understood," Dai Atlas inclined his helm. His field steadied as his pragmatic nature took over. Pre-battle jitters settled as they always did. This was no longer the time to think, but to _do_ and _accept_ what came.

"He's stubborn," Axe said quietly. "Is there a medic on duty ... when it's over?"

The white jet lifted a hand to brush his fingers over Dai Atlas' helm, then stepped back, lifting off the floor. Holding the center of the binding, he guided the larger mech over to the Great Sword, slipping the binding over the hilt. The Great Sword was warm against Dai Atlas' hands, the blue jewel glowing softly from within.

"If a medic will be needed, then Hardwing and Redline are only a call away," Wing answered, setting down next to Axe. Golden optics remained on Dai Atlas for a long moment before turning to Axe. "I arranged for you to stay all of next orn, if it proves necessary. This may not be quick, and it might end up being more than a little disturbing."

"It won't be the first time, I doubt it will be the last," Axe murmured, watching as his mate settled into the almost-kneeling position he was forced into. "It won't scare me away."

"That's good. He will need you after this is over." Wing settled onto the floor, watching the blue mech as Dai Atlas easily sank into the light trance of his normal meditation. "The first binding rattles everyone."

"He's tough to rattle," Axe cocked his helm as he settled next to Wing, relaxing in the way of one used to long, uncomfortable waits. "What's the subject this time?"

"What the binding evokes in him might prove differently." Wing tilted his helm toward the black and gold mech. "Each color of cord has a different meaning, and each evokes different responses and memories. When I underwent the binding a few orns ago, I was bound with white, which represents intensity."

"Something you have plenty of," Axe chuckled, then considered the smaller jet. "Do bindings ever leave you feeling good?"

Wing nodded. "It does happen, yes. There are quite a few times I come out of a binding feeling good, feeling refreshed or renewed. You will experience bindings like that, when it's your turn." Gold optics turned toward Dai Atlas, watching the large blue mech as he began to twitch. More apparent, however, was the affect on the mech bonded to him.

Axe rumbled, catching hints of what was going on despite the largely blocked bond. "Which is it, loss, pain or the past?"

"The pink color represents loss," Wing answered, his wings twitching against his back. "There are very, very few who aren't rattled by what that color evokes in them." He looked from Dai Atlas to Axe, one wing extending as if to touch black armor, then catching itself partway and folding again.

"It's okay," Axe smiled at him, unhappy that his mate was facing so much grief, some that was still healing, but not about to blame Wing for it. "If he's going to have to deal with all of it, we'll be here a very, very long time."

"If it takes longer than expected, I will arrange with Dart to take you off the chore roster for as long as necessary. Dart has been through this; he knows how disturbing it can be. All those who've been through Initiate training and bonded a Great Sword know." The wing slowly extended again, stopped, and drew back but didn't fold all the way. Wing scooted a little to one side.

"Thank you," Axe murmured, his field expressing how much it meant to him to be allowed to be there for his mate. His optics dimmed, sharing Dai Atlas' pain as the larger mech sobbed and thrashed, trying to pull away but never with enough strength to break the cord or the hook that held him.

Wing inclined his helm, then sidled closer to Axe, carefully leaning into black armor. His field mingled with the larger mech's, revealing how much he hated having to put anyone through what Dai Atlas was experiencing, necessary or not. "He needed you to be here, and I would never deprive him of that support. Besides, I doubt you would be able to continue chores with this coming through the bond."

"Not without far more motivation than I have," Axe acknowledged, twitching as his mate bellowed in a mixture of grief and rage. "I can and have continued to fight. We've never survive if we couldn't."

Wing let out a soft chirr, leaning his helm against a black arm. "That is true."

After the better part of a joor of watching Dai Atlas twist, convulse, writhe, keen and sob in turn, Axe glanced down at the white jet that he was beginning to think of as his own. "You know you can ask questions. You'll be told if you aren't going to get an answer."

Slender wings shifted, one brushing against Axe's plating. "I have to admit I am curious as to what happened in his existence to cause so much grief, so much pain. But I do not wish to pry."

"Have you seen battle, _real_ battle, where both sides only seek to obliterate the other?" Axe asked gently, preparing to build the picture in increments for what he believed was a mech as innocent as one freshly sparked for the army.

Wing shook his helm. "I was sparked a stunt flier. After my creators rejected me, I wandered until I found my way here. I've never seen real battle. I can fight, all Knights can, but I have never experienced war."

Axe nodded, his field smooth and accepting. "Have you witnessed death of a friend?"

White armor flattened to Wing's frame. "I didn't really have many friends where I came from. No one really wanted to be around me unless they had to. I have seen mechs die, while I was on walkabout, but no one I would consider a friend."

Again Axe nodded, his field offering acceptance without judgment. "Try to imagine watching a good friend cut down before you, because of your choices, there because you asked them to be there."

Wing frowned, trying to imagine that. A slight shiver ran through his frame, and he leaned closer to the black mech. "I can't even imagine that kind of pain."

"Those are some of our less painful memories," Axe said gently, one hand moving to stroke trembling and tightly tucked wings. Trembling wings slowly relaxed under the light stroking, Wing's armor relaxing equally slowly.

"We have lost twenty-eight creations, and he has lost many more," the black and gold giant elaborated.

That revelation caused armor and wings to clamp down again, the jet making a soft, mournful sound. "No wonder he is in so much pain now."

"Yes," Axe said softly, feeling for his mate and not at all looking forward to his turn at this. "The existence of a skilled front line warrior is not an easy one. No matter how often you experience the loss of comrades and creations, it never truly gets easier. Soldiers as old as we count by the number who remain, not those we have lost. The list is so much shorter."

A bit of shifting got Wing under Axe's arm and against his side, making a soft chirr. "An existence I can't even imagine."

"I am glad, honestly," Axe smiled down at him, his fingers still stroking tightly held wings comfortingly. "Those losses are why we tried to retire, and why we came here. It came to be too much, given the reasons we were fighting. It is one thing to give your spark to protect Cybertron and our kind. That is the very reason sparked soldiers exist. We exist to fight and to one orn extinguish in defense of our world and Prime. But so many wars on alien worlds, far from home, not for the good of our kind but for the ambitions of an insane Prime," even saying it caused Axe to tremble, protocols objecting strenuously at such treason. "He's served four Primes. I've served two. We've both known all there is to know in military life. At its best, it is wonderful. A tight-knit group of close friends and lovers enjoying every orn to its fullest. At its worst..." he nodded towards his mate and the agony on display.

The stroking of his wings was slowly getting Wing to settle down, one slender wing stretching into the touch. "I can understand why you would want out. But it couldn't have been easy to leave your friends behind."

"It wasn't. Harder was leaving our troops behind, not knowing who would command them next, but knowing that it wouldn't be a General who cared as much as we did," Axe agreed. "Knowing that more would extinguish in every battle than had to because the mecha in charge wasn't as good as Dai Atlas is. That is a burden we will both bear for a very long time to come."

Wing chirred again, not knowing what to say to that. He nestled closer to black armor, resting his helm against Axe's plating. Gold optics returned to watching Dai Atlas, white plating ruffling in sympathetic distress.

::A binding penance?:: Sovereign Vanguard pinged Wing's comm after a particularly loud and disturbing scream of denial from Dai Atlas.

::First binding, actually meditation. I was not expecting it to be this violent,:: Wing responded, shifting against Axe's side.

::He will be a long time coming to peace with his past,:: the old mech advised knowingly. ::Do call if you have difficulty bringing him out.::

Wing hummed his agreement. ::His bonded is with us; I might have to steal Axe from Dart for the duration of this. If we need help, I will call.::

::If Dart gives you any trouble over it, direct him to me,:: the Sovereign said before closing the connection.

"Did we disturb someone?" Axe asked uneasily.

"The Sovereign was merely wondering what was going on," Wing answered. "I warned the other Knights in this area that there would be a first binding being undergone tonight, so the rooms around us are mostly empty at the moment. Sovereign Vanguard also gave me permission to keep you here for the duration of the binding, and for however long Dai Atlas needs you afterward." He shifted slightly, resettling against the larger mech.

"Kind of him," Axe murmured, relaxing fractionally. He went sharply tense when his mate let out a spark-rending sob, his optics going wide in horrified surprise.

Wing's armor stood on end, nacelle pinions and wings flaring. "What? What is it?" One hand tightened on a black armor plate, the young jet twisting to look up into Axe's blue optics as they went nearly white.

"Oh Primus," Axe whispered, his armor flaring and flattening in distress. "His shielding is gone. I can get everything," he struggled to speak. "His second charge ... turned traitor. Dai Atlas had to execute him, himself."

Wing keened softly in distress, pressing closer to Axe. Neither of them could touch Dai Atlas until the blue giant signaled that he was ready, so the jet pressed against his Initiate's bonded instead. Wing could not imagine having to do what Dai Atlas had had to. Almost flattening himself against black plating, Wing carefully merged his field with Axe's, trying to provide some small bit of comfort.

He found it readily accepted, welcomed, and half-felt Axe channel the support to Dai Atlas. They couldn't touch, but there was no stopping the bond's efforts to soothe its other half.

Wing was practically in Axe's lap, a swath of white against the gleaming black and gold. "Tell me about your friends, the good times, everyday life," the white jet murmured. "The good memories might help ease some of what he's going through."

Axe nodded and focused his efforts on hundreds of millennia of good memories, selecting the best and brightest of every kind to think about and try to support his mate with without distracting him from what he had to do.

"Did he tell you how he proposed to me?" Axe asked, a fond smile spreading across his features.

"He said he flew for you during a battle," Wing replied, perking up. He still had yet to see any vids of this. "And there was a great deal of gawking on the parts of both armies."

"Oh, that there was," Axe chuckled, his field warm and full of awed fondness at the memory. "It led to a rash of similar proposals, though none quite so spectacular until a pair of Seekers who had lost their Action decided to court a new one using a battle as the backdrop. That was incredible to watch too. I know I was cheering them on."

"That would have been something to see," Wing agreed. "Atlas was teasing me with hints that he has vid files of his flight for you. He said that some orn he and I might trade vids; I have some amusing one from when I was learning to fly."

"Oh?" Axe grinned devilishly. "I'll trade. Might even throw in one of my dear Atlas overcharged. He's quite amusing like that, so long as there's someone big enough around to either stop him or pull him out of wherever he's flown."

Wing grinned brightly. "Sounds like fun. And he sounds like an interesting drunk."

"Oh he is," Axe snickered. "Not as fun as I am, but I get many more good vids of him than he does of me. I'm just too affectionate for my own good. He likes to fly, and seems to have issues with directional control and object avoidance."

Wing laughed, settling himself in the larger mech's lap and getting comfortable. "I can't wait to see some of what he's gotten into."

"Let's see one of yours, and I'll share our bonding flight," Axe continued to run his hands over Wing's folded wings, grateful for the distraction from his mate's pain. It was hardly the first time he'd been able to do nothing but watch, but it never got any easier.

Wing leaned into the stroking, sending a databurst with some of his more memorable moments from learning to fly. The young jet had had a tendency to latch onto whatever he ran into, leading to some interesting and awkward moments.

One in particular, when the young stunt jet had run into a bridge under construction and become entangled in the cabling when he latched on caused Axe to laugh with a sense of familiarity. "I get the feeling you've never grown out of the clinging phase," he teased lightly.

"Nope," Wing agreed cheerfully, wings wiggling happily under Axe's hands. "I just got into the habit of clinging to mechs more than walls and half-built bridges."

"Fair is fair," Axe sent a databurst with the best of his vids of Dai Atlas in a courting flight during battle, then his own acceptance dance and their bonding merge high above the grounders.

The white jet purred as he viewed the vids. "That is even more impressive than I imagined. He's very good at skydancing. I hope someday I get the chance to dance for a partner." Wing shifted slightly, offering up a vid of one time he'd been chasing a small swarm of glow beetles and had flown smack into the flight leader of one of the professional stunt teams in the troop he'd been sparked into.

"He had time to practice," Axe smiled, only to wince when Dai Atlas keened, nearly breaking his vocalizer when it morphed into an outraged roar. "He planned that for longer than you've been in existence." He offered a vid of Dai Atlas overcharged and drenched in old oil from the holding silo he'd flown into, and forgotten he could climb out of if he transformed.

The white jet flinched at the keen, wings pulling tight to his back for a moment before slowly relaxing again. Viewing the new vid, he giggled. "Was it you who had to fish him out of the strange places he managed to get stuck?"

"Once I was generally considered his regular berthmate, and definitely once I was his SIC," Axe nodded, stroking Wing's wings as much as a distraction as to provide comfort. "Before that ... sometimes he'd have a berthmate long enough to get the job, but it was usually the SIC or TIC's duty to see to their commander's needs."

Wing was well on his way to melting into the stroking, turning into a puddle of jet in Axe's lap. "Did it ever involve actually grabbing a limb and dragging him out of wherever he got stuck?"

"Arm, leg, helm crest, wing, nosecone, tailfin, whatever was in reach," Axe chuckled and offered up another memory that had been passed down from his predecessor. This one was of Dai Atlas' pedes waving wildly as he was stuck in a window at the shoulder, after having forgotten that his wings were far wider than the rest of him.

Wing cracked up completely, slumping against Axe's torso, laughing so hard his chassis hurt. "Oh Primus..."

Wing responded with a vid of the time a glow beetle had managed to climb under the young jet's armor. He'd been running around shrieking and flailing, with tiny sharp insect feet skittering over his wiring and circuit boards. It had taken over a joor for the blue-carapaced insect to find its way back out.

"You have a thing for those critters, don't you?" Axe smirked, rubbing the white jet's helm affectionately.

"Name one youngling who hasn't spent part of an orn chasing the colorful glowing beetles," Wing retorted with a chuckle. "They're slow fliers, colorful, and they glow. Sparklings love playing with them. I used to keep them as pets before I left my home." He leaned his helm into Axe's hand, flaring his audial fins.

"I doubt my dear Atlas did," Axe chuckled. "Mecha our size can barely notice them. We had larger targets," he shared his particular fascination with the smaller avians, most of them organics from other worlds, frequently in bright, reflective colors.

Wing perked up at the images from other worlds, things he'd never seen before. Interest and bright curiosity bled into his field, pulsing gently against Axe's. "I've never seen creatures like those. Never have I been off the planet."

"Most worlds we deployed to were organic ones," Axe said, offering a few more vids of the various creatures he'd encountered. "Mechanical worlds tend to bow to the Prime's authority without much fuss."

White wings wiggled as Wing took in the creatures and the worlds. "Few Knights go offworld, even on walkabout. We very rarely have the chance to see what other worlds look like, or what lives on them."

"I'm not that sure you're missing much, really," Axe admitted. "Most of the universe hates us, for good reason."

"Because of the Prime." Wing made a face. He flicked a wing in an insulting manner, then settled down, stretching his wings into Axe's hands. "I would have liked to see some of these worlds. But it's just too dangerous."

"It is," Axe agreed. "Even for mecha as skilled as a Knight. Cybertronians are only really safe with large, well-armed units nearby, and that's far from a sure thing towards the border. Don't be so enamored of the universe. There's nothing out there worth the effort to see. Understanding Cybertron is a far more worthy use of resources."

Wing chirred, curling up in Axe's lap and leaning against the larger mech's torso. "That all depends on your point of view."

"Mine is the survival of Cybertron and our kind," Axe said grimly. "This world can't sustain itself like this forever."

"And mine, as of now, is adventure and exploration." Wing shrugged slightly. "Of course, I am still young and haven't gotten the playfulness knocked out of me yet."

"I'm not sure it ever will," Axe chuckled, rubbing Wing's helm playfully as they drifted into silence once more.

S=================== S

One hundred and sixteen joors into his first binding meditation and Dai Atlas keened, a sound even more pitiful and lost than what had escaped him before. Axe shuddered, his armor flattening tightly to his protoform as it dredged up memories he was in no way healed from either.

~Love,~ Axe pressed against their bond, silently pleading with him to ask for release.

Instead the giant threw his weight back violently, snapping both cord and the hook holding him upright and just off his knees, sending himself to fall backward and Wing's Great Sword to clatter to the ground.

Wing scrambled out of Axe's lap, letting the black mech go to his mate. Retrieving his Great Sword, Wing placed it on a table, turning his attention to his Initiate. White armor flattened to his frame as the young jet eased closer, torn between giving the couple some space and pressing himself against blue armor.

Dai Atlas looked in terrible shape. His frame was too weak to truly react; he'd spent the bulk of his remaining energy freeing himself from the Great Sword's grip. He only barely managed to curl into a ball as Axe did a mixture of scooping him into his lap and curling around him as the black mech sobbed just as hard as his mate.

Wing took in the blue mech's appearance with one swift glance, then opened a comm to Hardwing. The white jet crouched just out of arm's reach of Dai Atlas, wringing his hands helplessly. A distressed keen rose from Wing's vocalizer, but the two mechs in the room with him were too consumed by their own grieving to even know he was there anymore.

Even as Hardwing stepped into the now crowded quarters the bonded pair were working their own solution. With Axe doing much of the moving, Dai Atlas rolled to his back and unlocked his chest plates. His mate was so close the movement wasn't visible, only the glow of one bright golden-red spark that was soon mixing with a rich blue one gave away what the couple were doing.

Wing watched, his wings trembling, armor clamped tightly to his frame. He liked the two larger mechs greatly and didn't want any harm to come to them. Keening softly, he eased the tiniest bit closer.

A strong hand clamped down on his shoulder.

"Don't," Hardwing insisted. "Not while their sparks are exposed. They may not be aware of us now, but get in field range and they'll both react to protect their spark and their mate's spark."

Wing nodded, backing off. His wings continued to tremble, his soft, distressed keen never stopping. "Will it help? Merging their sparks?"

"Most likely. It will remind them what they have to live for," he said quietly. He wasn't about to tell the young jet that it was also a way to commit suicide favored in ancient times. Times that were within the living memory of at least Dai Atlas, if not both of them. "Do you know what loss triggered this?"

Wing shook his helm, drooping. "I don't know. Axe gave me a general idea of the losses Dai Atlas has suffered in his past, but no real specifics."

"I can guess at the worst of them," Hardwing said grimly, watching as the merge progressed with the speed only very old mates could manage. "Lost creations, executions of his own, friends he knew he was sending to their death, atrocities worse than anything we could comprehend. A front line military officer as old as he is will have witnessed everything one being can do to another, and committed most of them."

Wing seemed to shrink in on himself. He had been the one to bind Dai Atlas; he had put the big mech through hell. The young jet hoped Dai Atlas would be all right; he did not want to lose his Initiate.

"Remember, he has to go through this," Hardwing murmured. "Whatever set him off is unlikely to have healed no matter how long you waited. It is likely the reason they came here."

"That doesn't make me feel any better for having to put him through it," Wing replied, his optics on the pair as soft keens escaped them, their frames trembling as energy began to crackle over them.

"Training an Initiate can be as difficult for the Knight as the Initiate," Hardwing smiled softly at the relative youth. "It is worth it, to see them return to the Citadel after their walkabout. Though I don't suppose those two will leave."

Flattened armor stood on end. "If they venture outside the Citadel, there is a very good chance they will never return. Nova branded them deserters; there is a bounty on their helms. I will _not_ train Dai Atlas just to see him cut down like that."

"The bounty is likely to be repealed by the next Prime," Hardwing told him. "Nova Prime is an old one already. These two will outlive him as they outlived the others."

"I get the feeling Nova won't fall soon enough for them." Wing turned back to Dai Atlas and Axe, his armor settling again. He watched energy crackle over black and blue armor, shifting slightly as he witnessed an act normally too intimate to be shared even with close friends in the room.

"I expect so," Hardwing agreed, forcing his arousal down with the aid of medical protocols as the merge reached its crescendo. "Though even then they might not be required to go on a walkabout. Its purpose is to expose young Knights to the outside world. I doubt there is much that those two could learn or experience out there that is new to them."

"Probably not," Wing agreed. "They've probably seen and experienced just about everything there is out there."

Wing shifted again. Not even he was immune to what he was witnessing, but his distress at seeing his Initiate's condition was keeping the worst of the arousal at bay. For the moment.

The keening moan that escaped the pair as the spark-driven overload crashed through them was equal parts pleasure and grief, but it was enough for Hardwing to be sure that they weren't in any danger of surrendering to their grief.

For a lingering moment the only sound in the room was the lovers as they gasped for cooling air, the pop and crackle of cooling armor. Then the distinctive sound of their chest armor sliding back into place and locking.

"They'll be all right for now," Hardwing told Wing softly, though his hand held the compact jet in place.

Relief crashed through Wing's field, the jet's trembling slowly subsiding. Wing settled down, his wings loosening from their strut-creakingly tight tuck, his optics still on the two much older mechs. "I'm glad," he murmured, watching as the pair gradually relaxed. Grief was still thick around them, but the destructive despair was fading.

"Dai Atlas, can you drink, or should I inject energon directly?" Hardwing asked.

It took the giant a long moment to focus enough to processes the words. Then longer to contemplate the answer.

"Inject it," Axe said wearily as he pushed himself more or less upright. "I doubt he can sit up and I know those hands don't work yet."

Wing chirred, straightening slightly. The jet eased a few steps closer, then stopped, unsure if either of them wanted him near them. Shifting his weight from one pede to the other, Wing debated what to do next.

"Dai Atlas?" he called softly, audial fins folding closer to his helm.

The blue giant tipped his helm to the side, his optics taking unusually long to focus. "Wing."

"Help me get some circulation going again," Axe said as he picked up one of his mate's hands and began rubbing it, clearly familiar with how to get circulation going again.

White armor loosened and settled into its usual position as the white jet eased over, settling next to his Initiate and taking the larger hand in his own. It was cold to the touch; Wing began kneading the metal, encouraging the power and energon flows to resume. Gold optics slid over to meet unfocused red as Hardwing set up an energon infusion line and began to pour processed energon into Dai Atlas' primary line.

Gradually Dai Atlas' optics focused more readily, and with it his processors.

~Don't you dare hurt him for that,~ Axe reprimanded the first thought that crossed his mate's processors.

A deep rumble was the response, but tension eased from his frame as he stared at Wing. "You do that _willingly_?"

Wing nodded. "Every Knight and Knight-in-training goes through that. For some, it's worse than it is for others." His armor clamped tightly to his frame, and he dropped his gaze. "I didn't expect yours to be so distressing."

"Pink is loss," Dai Atlas said evenly, color beginning to come back to his hands. "I have known too much loss."

"Some of it neither of us have done more than accepted that we were going to keep going after it," Axe added quietly, accepting a cube from Hardwing and gulping it down.

Wing tried to shrink into his own armor, his hands tightening briefly on Dai Atlas' larger one. Guilt threaded through his field, quickly suppressed.

"Instead of feeling guilty, you can just stand still the first time I _really_ try to hit you," Dai Atlas said, something between serious, teasing and vaguely delusional.

"I recommend not listening to him until after I let him out of the berth," Axe chuckled weakly. "You have no idea how hard he hits."

"I can guess," Wing retorted with a snort, flicking his wings at the black mech. "I'll pass on that, if you don't mind." He curled his dark hands around Dai Atlas' index finger, working the joints gently. This close he could get the full breadth of the big mech's field, and it wasn't a pretty thing, but neither was it hateful.

"Focus lover," Axe focused on his mate as Dai Atlas began to drift. "You'll regret it if you recharge on the floor again. We're both too old for that."

"Hate floors," Dai Atlas mumbled, but focused on the struggle to get upright.

Wing was entirely too small to help lever the bigger mech to his pedes, but that didn't stop him from ducking under Dai Atlas' arm to press himself against blue armor briefly, his purr and field expressing just how glad he was that the larger mech would be all right. After a moment, the small white jet backed off again, figuring he'd lost any cuddle privileges he'd had for a while.

Instead he left maneuvering his Initiate to the larger mechs and darted into the Dai Atlas' berthroom to deposit several cubes of energon. He had no doubt that they'd be needed by the time the giants were ready to face the world again.


	3. Battle and Choices

**Fandom**: Transformers G1  
**Author**: gatekat, ultrarodimus on LJ  
**Pairing**: Axe/Dai Atlas, Axe/Wing  
**Rating**: NC-17  
**Codes**: Slash, Sticky, Spark, Voyeurism, Historical Setting, Knights of Light  
**Summary**:  
**Disclaimer**: The authors are only playing with their own twisted muses. Transformers belong to Hasbro. Fandom-side, check the inspirations page (gatekat-fics .livejournal 290 .html). We draw from a ton of amazing stories and authors you should read.

Kneeling to the Sword 03: Battle and Choices  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ =================== ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three vorns had passed since Wing had taken Dai Atlas on as his Initiate, a Knight-in-training. They were an interesting pair, but they actually worked together quite well when one wasn't traumatizing the other with pranks or stories of the depravities of mecha.

After two vorns of endless katas and drills, Wing had begun sparring with Dai Atlas. It was decades sooner than most managed, but most had not been sparked warriors or with an intuitive understanding of anything presented to them as long as it was meant to fight with. Honing the blue giant's swordsmech skill was a joy for Wing. It was a satisfying task easily and quickly accomplished. Dai Atlas was a quick learner, but with only three vorns in the form against Wing's centuries, the small jet was still far better; most orns sparring with him was like trying to hit smoke for Dai Atlas.

With the paint blades in use for their sparring, Dai Atlas' blue armor usually ended up covered in streaks of yellow or red, while Wing very rarely ended up with a single blue stripe marring his white armor. It was maddening to the ancient warrior, and amusing to everyone who came to watch, including Axe whenever he could manage.

This particular orn was no different. Dai Atlas' armor and wings bore an interesting pattern of vivid yellow, while the smaller white jet didn't have a single mark on him.

There were two things that were different that orn, however. The first was Axe watching intently, the gleam in his optics much like the look he got when they'd been courting. The second was a binding in blue cord three orns previously that was only now really settling into the ancient giant's processor and spark.

Axe perked up, recognizing the shift in his mate's mindset long before anyone else did.

Wing was a flicker of white as he dodged and parried Dai Atlas' swords, darting in to leave yet another stripe of yellow across his Initiate's thigh. His golden optics were bright, his ever-present smile firmly in place.

Axe saw it before his mate felt it as Wing connected with Dai Atlas' left knee. A blow that wasn't considered anything of importance in the sparring ring was something else entirely to the giant. Memory-pain roared into Dai Atlas' awareness as the world fell away to a battle long ago.

"Wing! Bolt!" Axe yelled at the small jet urgently.

The jet paused for the barest of instants, then decided to take the advice and get out of the way. Skittering backward, Wing did his best to put some distance between himself and Dai Atlas, not sure what was going on but knowing it wasn't something he'd want to be caught in. For one of the few times in his existence, Wing wasn't fast enough.

With a bellow of pain and killing rage, red optics flaring to a near-white, Dai Atlas punched his sparring sword squarely against Wing's chest, a perfect strike over his spark. Fortunately for the white jet, the blade did what it was designed to do and crumpled against his armor.

Wing yelped, then cried out in pain as the blow sent him flying. He hit the wall hard, his wings crushed against his back, his helm slamming against the unyielding surface hard enough to rattle his processor and make his optic feed skitz. One nacelle gave an unhealthy whine as the young jet crumpled, landing in a heap of armor on the floor.

He was only distantly aware of his Initiate being tackled by Axe and at least one other large mech. He was far more aware of the insane sound of rage coming from his Initiate and the intense pain coming from all parts of him.

Dai Atlas went suddenly silent, but before Wing could contemplate the cause Hardwing was kneeling next to him, trying to get his attention.

"Don't fade out on me," the gruff medic demanded, concern in his vocal harmonic.

Wing whimpered, trying to focus on the medic. His optics refused to work properly, his back was a mass of pain, and his limbs refused to coordinate their movements. He could only twitch, unable to stop the sounds of pain from escaping.

He didn't feel the medical hardline when it was plugged in, only the overrides as they were initiated. Suddenly the pain eased as his sensor net was shut down.

~Don't try to move. You're badly damaged, but nothing I can't repair,~ Hardwing told him firmly. ~You shouldn't be feeling much right now. I can put you in stasis, or you can remain conscious.~

A sound of relief escaped as the pain eased. He tried to peer around Hardwing in the general direction of his Initiate, but could barely make out the medic's silhouette with the static and out of focus issues.

~Would rather be offline... I'm so woozy and my processor feels like it's crawling,~ Wing replied unsteadily.

~All right,~ the medic said gently and flipped the protocol switch, sending Wing into the oblivion that was stasis.

S=================== S

Vanguard walked through the corridors of the Citadel, toward the penance room where Dai Atlas and Axe had been brought after Redline and Hardwing had kicked them out of the medical bay. While the two medics were fairly sure the larger of the pair was sane again, neither wanted to take any chances. Wing had been badly damaged, and no one wanted a repeat of what had happened.

The door to the chamber containing the two large mechs had been locked, with Master Marwir standing guard outside.

"They've been quiet and cooperative, Sovereign," she reported smoothly as she stepped aside.

Sovereign Vanguard nodded to her, coding open the door and stepping inside. The pair were sitting on the berth not truly big enough for the smaller of them, much less both. Axe was the first to notice him and stood quickly, all but dragging the miserable-looking Dai Atlas to his pedes.

"Sovereign," Axe said, then drifted off, uncertain of what else to say. This place was just structured enough he knew he should respond as he always had, but it wasn't structured enough that he knew how.

"Did I kill him?" Dai Atlas trembled faintly.

"Wing was badly damaged, but he will be fine. Hardwing is working on his repairs now." Vanguard's white optics narrowed at the larger of the two as Dai Atlas sagged in open relief. "Now I am hoping one of you can explain to me exactly what happened in the training room."

"There is a condition those who've experienced severe trauma sometimes develop, Sovereign," Axe spoke for his mate. "Occasionally a memory replay will overlay reality in a way that makes it very difficult to tell that you aren't back in that time and place. Shellshock and flashbacks are the common terms, at least in the military."

"He hit me exactly the same way I was crippled when my twenty-ninth charge ... my creation ... was cut down." Dai Atlas' wings trembled in the memory. "I knew I could have flashbacks. I never anticipated that I'd have one sparring. Never thought that Wing might manage to trigger it."

Vanguard frowned, his own wings twitching. "Then this is something that has the potential to happen again?"

"Yes," Dai Atlas acknowledged. "Not even all the research the military has done since long before I was sparked has a solution. I've done all that can be to mitigate the triggers and the trauma itself, but as long as the memories are functionally damage, it can happen again."

"It's been centuries since it happened," Axe spoke up in his mate's defense.

"That is something you will have to work out with Wing once his repairs are complete." Vanguard's expression became stern. "There will be a penance for your loss of control."

Axe tensed but Dai Atlas nodded both understanding and acceptance.

"What form?" the blue giant asked simply.

"Your penance will be a binding, in both red and white." Vanguard twitched his wings. "This I will oversee personally."

Axe twitched, nearly flinching, but Dai Atlas simply nodded. "This time until it is finished, not until I call for mercy."

"Correct." White optics met red levelly. "This will be seen through to its end."

"We will block the bond as much as possible," Dai Atlas said, offering more than was asked of him.

Axe objected with a muted squawk, and stared at his mate even as comprehension dawned on him.

The Seeker nodded. "Axe, you may choose to remain here or return to your chores for the duration of the penance."

Axe stared at his mate for a long, painful moment, then nodded slowly. "I will return to my chores for as long as I can," he sighed, deflating in surrender to his mate's wishes. "I'll come back, or go somewhere I can not hurt anyone, if the block breaks completely."

The burgundy Seeker nodded again, then crossed the chamber to the cabinet, reaching in to pick up the spools of cord. He took his time about it, giving the pair a moment before Axe would have to leave. Removing his Great Sword from his back and lifting off, he set it into the highest set of brackets, Vanguard turned back to Dai Atlas, waiting patiently.

Axe kissed his mate on the forehelm, then gently rested their forehelms together before he left the room, his frame displaying his unease. When the door closed Dai Atlas stood and approached the burgundy Seeker with the white optics of a Priest of Primus. He knelt and offered his forearms. His armor was slicked down, his field close to his plating, but his emotions were on clear display. Grief, shame and distress flickered around him as he submitted to a sentence he dreaded far more than any beating, shaming or punishment the military had dreamed up.

Vanguard watched in silence, taking note of the emotions written clearly in every line of Dai Atlas' frame as the Sovereign wrapped the red and white cords around black forearms and wrists in a complex binding. Once the cords were in place, the former High Priest hooked the binding over the hilt of his Great Sword, then settled back to wait out the penance.

Privately he was pleased. It spoke well of the Initiate's potential and future that Dai Atlas regretted his actions without punishment, or even knowing he would be punished. The cause was known, and while it would be a long and painful path to overcome it, nothing he felt in the giant indicated he would resist being healed.

This would be a rare Initiate who was likely to spend more time in binding meditation than sparring. The Sovereign had seen Dai Atlas fight, and had no doubt that everything he had heard of the former General from his contacts in the outside world was correct.

S=================== S

Axe was working through his chores almost on automatic, trying to ignore what was seeping through the bond despite the strength of the blocks he and Dai Atlas had erected. Black armor was tight to his frame, making his state of mind clear enough that the other Supplicants kept their distance.

Only three mechs came anywhere near him. Redline, to ensure that he was still healthy and stable enough to be out and about. Dart, both in his function as the Archon and with a gentle voice and touch of one who was trying to be a supportive friend. It was Atl that got through to him though, at least a little. The mid-sized grounder made his spark calm, just a bit, with nothing more than his presence.

Dart was respectful too, giving him duties where someone could keep an optic on him, but also where he wasn't actually working with anyone.

He felt Atl approach before the Knight said anything, felt himself relax just a fraction as their fields touched and gently mingled.

Black plating quivered, then slowly loosened from its tight clamp. Grunting a greeting, Axe looked up from what he was doing, glancing over at the red Knight.

"You're both strong, to endure this so well," Atl moved to place a hand on Axe's arm in comfort. He paused just above the plating, checking that the touch was welcome, before squeezing gently. "It will end."

"Doesn't make it any more pleasant to have to deal with," Axe sighed. He leaned slightly toward the touch.

"No, I don't expect it does," Atl agreed, offering more of his frame to lean on if it was desired. "It will be worth it to have him healed from such pain."

The black and gold triple changer nodded slowly. "Yes, it will be worth it. Even if it doesn't feel that way when he's going through it."

Atl paused, considering Axe as the larger mech flinched from something only he could sense. "You have similar traumas, I think."

"He and I have seen just about every atrocity possible. He's just seen more of it than I have." Black plating ruffled unhappily.

"If you pursue becoming a Knight of Light, you will have to overcome them, much as he is now," Atl said, almost cautiously.

The gold-crested black helm nodded. "I know. And it will likely be as difficult for me as it is for my bonded. I can't say I'm looking forward to it, but, hopefully, facing it and overcoming it will help me heal."

Atl smiled warmly at him. "If you wish, I can take you through a few meditations and bindings."

Axe responded with a slight smile. "I'll probably take you up on that. But after my mate is finished his binding. I really don't want to find out what might happen with both of us undergoing it at the same time."

"No, not now," Atl shook his head sharply. "That would be detrimental to you both. I am here for you though, if anything would help."

Axe twitched as something else seeped through the bond. "Anything to distract me from what Dai Atlas is going through. During the first binding, cuddling and talking with Wing helped. Now... I don't know."

Atl considered him evenly. "Sparring, pleasure, meditation?"

The black triple changer debated, shifting his weight from pede to pede. "I'm not sure how well I'd be able to meditate right now... Pleasure would probably be the better option."

Alt smiled and nodded. He squeezed Axe's arm. "I will speak to Dart, then we can go to my quarters and see about helping you relax and recharge well."

Axe smiled slightly, leaning into the touch. "That would be most helpful. With what Dai is going through... I'm so wound up my concentration is about shot to pieces."

"Understandable," Atl opened a comm to Dart. ::I'd like to steal Axe until Dai Atlas' penance is complete.::

::Go for it. I'm glad he's finally accepted some real support,:: the cycle-former said warmly. ::Mech's entirely too used to not looking outside his mate for help.::

::Thank you,:: Atl said and closed the comm. "You're mine until this is over."

The black and gold triple changer vented softly, putting away the supplies he'd been using. Brushing absently at the dust collecting on his armor, he stretched to work a kink out of his back, then stepped toward Atl. "Lead the way."

The smaller grounder nodded and headed across the courtyard to the tower where the Senior Knights lived. "Are you at all bothered by smaller spaces? You'll fit in my quarters, but you won't have that much extra headroom."

"I'm not as bothered by small spaces as Dai Atlas is, but then, he has a lot more kibble to snag on low ceilings." Axe followed Atl, matching the smaller mech's pace.

"And a fair amount of extra height to start with," Atl agreed easily, showing Axe to a ground level apartment that looked much like Wing's first one had, other than general lack of flier special access. "Energon?"

Axe chuckled. "True. Dai's problem with low ceilings and too-small pieces of furniture has been a running joke between us ever since I became his lover." He followed the Senior Knight inside, looking around curiously at the warmly decorated space, full of tickets of his travels, vid captures of mecha and places, and artwork of moderate value but good craftmechship. "Yes, thank you."

Atl nodded and went to an inset cabinet for two cubes. "What kind of pleasure appeals right now?"

The older mech accepted the cube with a nod, taking a sip as he thought. "Tactile, touch, and we'll see where it goes from there." Axe flinched slightly at something coming through the bond, armor plates scraping against each other.

With an easy nod Atl motioned for Axe to follow him into the berthroom he used and a berth large enough for Axe to lay on it, though his pedes would dangle off the end. "Lay down, and I'll see about distracting you."

Axe settled onto the berth, not minding that it was a little too short for his frame. Blue optics took in the decor of Atl's berthroom before settling onto Atl himself. "Thank you."

"You are welcome," Atl smiled at him as he settled across Axe's back just above his hips and set a polishing kit to the side. "Are there any spots I shouldn't touch?"

"There's an old scar, partly hidden by my shoulder armor. One of the sensor nodes under it is damaged and sends out conflicting signals when touched. That's the only spot I'd prefer you avoid," Axe replied, making an effort to loosen flattened-down armor plating.

"Understood," Atl focused on the area for a moment to pick out the spot and noted it to avoid. Then he went to work with a bit of warm oil and a soft cloth, every touch intended to relax and make the mech under him feel good.

Slowly, flattened-down armor plating loosened. Blue optics dimmed slightly as Axe made an effort to settle down, resting his chin on crossed wrists. Tensed-up cables and hydraulics slowly relaxed.

"That's good," Atl purred softly, his field ever so gently offering to mesh with Axe's to improve the experience.

Axe's field meshed slowly with Atl's, drawing back briefly before extending again. The larger mech's blue optics dimmed almost off, his plating vibrating slightly at the deep, soft rumble he let out.

Strong, careful hands continued to work on oiling black plating, rubbing the warm, slick substance in. He even worked on the edges that rarely saw attention short of meeting the Prime with long, smooth strokes.

Black armor vibrated at Axe's deep, soft purr, plating lifting just enough to allow better access to the edges but not enough to let anything slip under them. Axe didn't trust anyone but Dai Atlas enough to give them access to his systems, even the surface systems just under his armor. He was still tense, but the tension was slowly flowing out of him.

"What feels best?" Atl asked softly, his hands never stilling as he worked upward slowly, taking his time.

It took a moment for the larger mech to register the question. He hummed thoughtfully as he considered how to respond. "It all feels good," he answered finally, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. "At this point I would be hard-pressed to pick something as feeling better than the rest."

"That's okay," Atl smiled, his field warm, accepting and supporting as he continued to work the warm oil along and into the plating. "You feel like you're relaxing a bit."

A shiver ran through Axe's body and black armor clamped down briefly, reflecting something he sensed from Dai Atlas. Armor rattled slightly as the black mech trembled, then he slowly settled down again, armor loosening. "As much as I can."

"Don't stress about it," Atl extended his field, his focus on soothing the giant. "Is this the worst you've experienced through the bond?"

"When compressed into a short amount of time, it comes very close," Axe answered, accepting the contact. He shifted into Atl's hands, enjoying the touch and the lack of demands on him. It had been so rare to have someone who simply wanted to help and expected nothing but civility in return.

S=================== S

Wing groaned softly as he came out of stasis, the medical overrides keeping his booting up steady and methodical. He could tell that he'd had to undergo major surgery to repair all the damage; the new parts had the distinct, itchy tightness of fresh repairs that were still integrating into his frame. Still, he felt a lot better now than he did before he'd gone into stasis.

"Any warnings or errors?" Hardwing's voice asked after his vocalizer booted.

"No," Wing rasped, his vocalizer still slightly undercharged. "No warnings or errors. Just the usual ache that accompanies major repairs." Slowly, carefully, the white jet sat up. In addition to Hardwing, there were Masters Aurora and Marwir slightly further back.

Aurora was the first to speak as she walked to up Wing and placed a hand on his shoulder. "The Sovereign is overseeing his penance, a binding of red and white."

White armor ruffled. Dai Atlas wouldn't be in the best of shape himself after that. But it was better than a beating in Wing's processor. "He didn't mean to hurt me."

"We know. He suffered a flashback. Apparently you struck him exactly as he was damaged when he lost one of his creations," she explained, her voice soft yet with the firm control of the sky. "You are likely to have some orns free. It has the markers of a very long binding."

Wing drooped at that revelation, making a mental note to avoid that strike in the future and giving that thought the highest priority tag. "I'm not surprised. He has a lot of old trauma to work through."

"Yes, and even working through this one loss is not going easily," she nodded, then glanced at Marwir. "I would see you in my office once your Daoshi releases you."

Wing nodded his response. "And once Hardwing decides I'm ready to leave the medbay. Last time I tried to leave early I got a rant that almost stripped the paint right off my frame."

Marwir smirked at that. "You mean you actually _learned_ from that?"

"Never doubt the power of a fully trained medic," Hardwing fluffed his wings proudly. "Stay still for a joor. I'll be back to check on you then."

"When the hint is applied forcefully enough, it penetrates even my thick cranial plating," Wing retorted. He shuffled slightly so he could sit cross-legged on the med berth, watching the CMO leave.

"Are you really all right?" Marwir asked, her voice low as she moved to sit next to him. Her field extended, brushing his in an offer of support, a reminder she would always be his Daoshi and she _cared_ about him.

"I'm all right," Wing murmured back. "Once the new parts finish integrating the ache will go away. And I can understand why Dai reacted as he did. I'm more worried about him."

"A binding will not hurt him," she said in reminder. "At worst it will not help. At best he will have one less scar hindering him."

"I know." Wing's wings ruffled. "But still. I saw the state he was in after his first binding, and I can't help worrying."

She smiled gently and squeezed his shoulder, their matching frametypes as marked in their similarities as their differences. "You are his Daoshi. It comes with the position. You worried me more than I care to mention."

"I turned out all right, though." The younger jet grinned at her.

"Still insufferable," she flipped her wings at him. "Still pushing the limits. You've got your hands full with this one. He'll pay you back for everything you ever did to me," she chuckled.

Wing puffed up his armor. "It's my nature. Always has been, always will be. And I'm well aware that Dai Atlas will be quite a handful. I never did do anything the easy way, if you'll recall. But seeing him as a Knight, bonding his own Great Sword, will be worth all the chaos."

"It always is," she smiled at him. "You know you can come to me if you ever have questions, or just need to rant at someone."

Wing returned the smile. "I'm probably going to take you up on that when the questions start coming. Thank you."

S=================== S

Wing walked through the corridors toward Aurora's office, wondering what she wanted to see him about. He couldn't think of anything that could have brought this on; the white jet and his Initiate had a fairly good relationship, the occasional flashback aside. So what was this about?

The young jet nodded absently to a couple of other Knights as he walked into the corridor where the Master Knights had their offices, stopping to knock on Aurora's office door. It slid open for him and she motioned him to come inside, her expression a bit more grim than usual.

She remained silent as he came before her and the door closed. "How well do you know your Initiate?"

"I'd like to think I know a fair bit about him," Wing answered, blinking at her. "Not everything about him, of course. But I have learned a fair bit both from him and from Axe."

"Good," she twitched her wings. "I want you to begin actively snooping. I have begun to hear questions about his loyalties."

White wings and nacelle pinions flared out in shock. "Snooping? What questions?"

"Predominantly that he was sowing unrest against the Prime," she said simply. "That he has contacts with various underground movements intent on overthrowing the Prime. We can not afford to be linked to such movements and come under scrutiny."

Wing stared at the Master Knight in utter shock for several kliks before he managed to get his vocalizer working again. "He didn't, and he doesn't! I don't know why anyone would think that!"

"Planted rumors designed to discredit him, the truth, or something in between," she flicked her wings in a shrug. "I want you to find out. Look through everything he brought with him, data included. I understand you are skilled at finding things not meant to be found. Do it here."

From his expression, Wing was not at all pleased about having to breach his Initiate's privacy, but not even he would disobey a direct order. It would be under protest, though. "I don't understand why anyone would want to spread such rumors about him."

The expression he received was a sad one. "You will, in time, if you ever learn enough of politics to join the Circle of Masters."

White armor ruffled. "I _know_ Dai has done none of what the rumors claim."

"I am pleased you have such faith in your Initiate. I need you to prove it to me."

Wing's wings pulled tight to his back. "I don't like having to go through his personal possessions and breach his privacy. But I want those rumors to stop."

"The only privacy you are breaching is what you gave him," she pointed out. "You may or may not remember, but no one here has secrets unless those of higher rank permit them." She tapped her fingers before her nose. "By doing this quietly and snooping, if he is innocent, it need never go beyond the two of us."

Wing nodded. "True." He ruffled his wings again. "I'll do it, then."

"Good. I want to know the truth behind these rumors," she told him. "Questions?"

"Not that I can think off the top of my helm," he replied, still clearly unhappy.

"Then you are dismissed," she said. "Find out what is going on."

Wing nodded silently. Turning, he left Aurora's office and began making his way to the quarters he shared with his Initiate. Reaching his quarters, he let himself in, walking into Dai Atlas' berthroom and looking around.

With a heavy, strut-rattling sigh, Wing got to work. Dai Atlas had very little, he knew, and didn't seem to be much on getting more. The only real item of note in the room was a large and very expensive holo-projector set up for viewing from the berth.

Wing inspected the holo-projector for a moment, then turned it on, sitting on the edge of the berth to view the images. He'd seen a few when poking his helm in the room when Dai Atlas was there. The giant had always turned it off almost instantly, though there was never a hint that it was to hide the images. It always felt like the Initiate was being polite by turning off distractions to give Wing his full attention.

Now Wing got to look at them for as long as he wanted. As the captures flowed by he recognized a few faces from historical records; what seemed like every Prime, Generals, Senators, and hundreds, if not thousands of faces he didn't know but could place as military. There were captures of a _very_ young seeming Dai Atlas, obviously taken by his own mentor. Even though he'd been sparked in his full sized frame, the way he held himself didn't carry nearly the authority he did now, or in later captures.

Formations, small units, individuals, pairs or trines; from formal to casual to overcharged brawls. He recognized many bonding ceremonies, promotions ... they were all happy occasions, the mecha smiling, laughing. Even Dai Atlas, when he was in the image. They didn't seem to be in any kind of order either. One image of a youthful Dai Atlas was directly after one of Nova Prime, something that was not truth in reality.

He was amazed by all the mecha his Initiate had known, and all the places he had been and all he was implied to have done. Every record was a _happy_ one. No funerals, no battles, no death.

He was more than a full joor into watching when Wing realized that some of the images had captions or comments in small glyphs. Sometimes on the bottom, or along a side ... seemingly anywhere that wouldn't get in the way. Which seemed odd, given captures didn't normally have fixed dimensions. Normally length was added and the text put in the blank addition, completely outside the image.

Wing peered at the captions, his audial fins flaring slightly as he read designations, places, units, dates and occasionally events or titles. His wings shifted against his back as he began to place things in order. On many of the single-mecha images there were three dates; activation and deactivation he was sure. The third was probably when the capture was taken.

The young jet keened softly as he took in those images. These must have been some of the mecha his Initiate had raised and lost. His creations. White wings tightened against his back briefly.

Golden optics widened slightly at some of what that projector contained. Most of the mecha in the image captures were before his time, but he still knew of the important ones from the news feeds and records he'd seen while he had walked Cybertron. He was fascinated by what he was seeing, what it told him about his Initiate's long existence before coming to the Citadel.

The next image to load wasn't an image, but a full vid. A triple changer of dark purple, black and silver with a purple-red optic band was laying on a berth too large for him.

"Show me how much you want me," Dai Atlas' voice rumbled from off screen.

"Tease," the triple changer growled even as he slid his spike cover back, allowing a thick spike to pressurize quickly.

Wing's optics went so wide they nearly popped out, his wings flaring out and pinions standing straight up in surprise. This was not something he had expected to find. Wing stared at the screen, studying the strange mech. Axe had mentioned that Dai Atlas had had many other lovers, but still, this particular material wasn't anything Wing had expected.

The white jet squirmed slightly on the berth as he continued to watch, unable to look away as the purple triple changer began to stroke himself, moaning and rolling his hips into each stroke. A shift of the recorder and legs and the fact that his valve cover was open, lubricant thick and glistening over the platelets, became evident.

"You want my spike in there don't you?" Dai Atlas teased his lover. "You want me to pound you into the berth, make you scream until your vocalizer shorts out."

The whining keen Wing let out drowned out the response from the strange triple changer on the screen. His wings fluttered and twitched as they folded again, the young jet unable to look away. Dai Atlas himself could have walked up behind Wing at that moment and the small white jet would not have noticed. His optics were fixed on the screen, watching the strange triple changer touch himself, listening to Dai Atlas' voice winding the strange mech up.

When the purple-red optic band dimmed, Dai Atlas stepped into the scene. His spike pressurized and ready, his frame tense with desire. He knelt on the bed, leaning over the smaller triple changer to kiss him soundly and passionately.

"Mine," Dai Atlas rumbled hotly, causing his lover to shudder even before the medium blue and black spike was lined up with the purple mech's valve and pressed in, hilting in a single, smooth thrust of long familiarity.

The tone of the blue mech's voice sent shivers up and down Wing's spinal strut, the white jet rubbing his thighs together and whining uncomfortably to himself. His gaze was fixed on what he was seeing, the smooth movements of Dai Atlas' hips and the sounds his lover was making.

If there was more material of that type on the projector, Wing might have to go hunt down Thorn once he was finished watching it.

"Mine," the purple mech growled, his hips driving up into the thrusts.

"Always," Dai Atlas promised, his chest plates parting to expose the rich ruby spark that sustained his life. Under him the other mech matched the offer, exposing a dark purple-red spark that reached eagerly for the red one above it. "Always," Dai Atlas whispered as the merge stole their awareness that they were being recorded.

The part of Wing's processor that wasn't completely preoccupied with what he was seeing wondered who the smaller triple changer was, or who he had been. The white jet didn't recall seeing him in any of the images in which the mechs had been named, or at least not in any of the captioned images he'd already looked at.

Golden optics caught and admired the red spark shining out from parted black chestplates. Slender white wings flared out to their full span, fluttering madly to try and dissipate the charge building in their joints and seams.

The merge was a long one, or it seemed so to Wing, yet it ended as all good interfaces did with the bellowing roars of both lovers mingled and overlaying.

As Dai Atlas sank down, spent, on top of his lover, the segment ended.

The next image was of that purple triple changer, grinning madly and pressed against Dai Atlas' chest plates in a possessively playful embrace at some kind of formal event.

The caption on this one was glowing, begging to be read.

_Bonded on this orn_  
_Captain Dai Atlas and Lieutenant Nightshadow_

Wing _stared_. Dai Atlas had been bonded before he had bonded with Axe, and had lost his mate? The young jet had known that his Initiate had had other lovers, but not that he had been bonded before. Dai Atlas' violent reactions to the pink-cord binding were making even more sense now, and the white jet's arousal faded as he hunched in on himself, belatedly glancing around to make _sure_ he was still alone.

His shame hadn't been witnessed. He was by himself in the room, only the projector providing any sense of movement as the images continued. Several passed without him really seeing them, but a _personally_ familiar face and form snapped his attention back into focus.

This time Wing was staring for a different reason. He _knew_ that femme. She was another Knight, out on walkabout. How did Dai Atlas know her?

Wing was torn between keeping his mouth shut about this when Dai Atlas returned, or asking about her. Which would mean revealing that he had been snooping, and probably hiding from Dai Atlas' temper for a few orns.

Belatedly he thought to find the caption and caught it before the next image.

_Corporal Snapjaw_  
_Scout, 108th._

The date was long ago, longer than he'd though she had functioned, but he hadn't thought she had been military either.

Wing blinked several times. Demeter had been a scout in the military. Probably under Dai Atlas' command at some point. That was something the young white jet hadn't known. But then, Demeter was fairly close-mouthed about her past and like the rest of the Citadel, he hadn't pried. Who so much of the population was escaping their past, there were things that no one asked and few volunteered.

It took a few kliks to shake off his shock, pondering what might happen when she returned from walkabout and saw Dai Atlas in the Citadel for the first time. It was sure to be interesting.

Another image caught Wing's optic. He could see Dai Atlas' distinctive helm crest and wings, but he couldn't quite make out what was going on. The "I don't know this mech" expression on a large silver and purple triple changer with red optics and sword hilts showing over his shoulders hinted that, whatever it was, it was probably fueled by high-grade and likely embarrassing.

The still dissolved into motion, and though the quality was poor, as it played out Wing had to work to keep the snickers down.

The voices in the vid were loud and distinctly slurred, most of them betting on something. Dai Atlas' voice rose over the others briefly, but Wing missed what he said, his own snickering drowning out the audio. The facepalm and groan from the large triple changer in the back, as well as the roar of laughter from the other mecha in the video, were clear enough, though. The video ended with Dai Atlas being dragged off by the helm crest, protesting loudly, much to the amusement of the others.

By then, Wing had collapsed back onto the berth, laughing so hard his frame hurt. He missed several more images before managing to get himself back under control and sit up again, though the occasional snicker still escaped.

More posed pictures of small units passed, interesting only in that they marked yet more mecha that Dai Atlas had known, and another vid came up. This one from the POV of a jet skydancing. The world was a blur to anyone not used to the speeds and sudden changes of direction.

Seeing that, Wing leaned forward eagerly. Being a jet and stunt flier himself, he could easily follow the action, and it was impressive. He charted out the moves in his processor, matching what he was seeing to the vid Axe had shown him of Dai Atlas' courting flight, and gold optics lit up as he realized he was seeing that wild dance through Dai Atlas' own optics.

As impressive as it had been from the outside, watching it from the performer's POV was even more enthralling for Wing. This was what he'd been designed for, quite literally. Even knowing what he did, it was hard matching these speeds and maneuvers to the giant he knew was performing them.

The small white jet let out a low whistle as he watched yet another _very_ close call. Dai Atlas had really been pushing himself, and probably would have been feeling it in every inch of his frame for a few joors afterward. If he even noticed. Wing could see the flash and flare of laser fire slashing past close enough to singe along wide white wings, could see the explosives going off in the air around the dancing mech. The young jet was thoroughly impressed and could tell why Axe had accepted the proposal. Something like _that_ would be slagging hard to refuse.

This was no token dance. This was a desperate, final effort to convince someone that you were worthy and wanted them more than your very spark.

Once more Wing sent a prayer to Primus to allow him a mate he desired so much to give such a dance for, to risk his very spark in pushing his frame that hard for. It was a desire that he couldn't imagine yet, though he knew he wanted.

Suddenly Axe was on the edge of the frame, entering the dance, slowing it down into the acceptance phase.

A soft chirr escaped Wing as he watched, impressed and more than slightly jealous. He watched as the two big triples danced together, noting fewer bursts of laser fire streaking past them and catching the occasional glimpse of a sea of staring mechs on the ground below them. Other fliers hovered at a distance with weapons all but forgotten in their hands, optics wide and jaws dropping when they weren't wearing facemasks or optic shields.

The feed cut off as Axe came close enough to touch, the close up of the black and gold mech's bright blue optics as they kissed the last thing in the recording.

Wing purred softly, wings quivering against his back. Watching the dance though Dai Atlas' optics had been most impressive, as had the acceptance dance. The two big mechs were a fine pair.

It took a klik for Wing to get himself back on track, looking up to see what else the projector contained.

More designations of those gone, only a handful still living. Dai Atlas' promotion to General by Guardian Prime. More mecha Wing didn't know and would never have an opportunity to meet.

Wing made a soft, sad sound as he noted just how few of those mecha were still among the functioning. No wonder Dai Atlas had so much loss and pain in his past, and no wonder it would take him a long time to get through it all. Golden optics flicked over the images as the scenes changed, fitting the dates into the timeline of Dai Atlas' existence.

He recognized the setup for another interface scene as soon as it appeared. This time Axe had his hands bound over his helm and to the berth he was laying on. He was lounging, watching the mech behind the recorder with half-shuttered blue optics, lips slightly parted. His body language was inviting, and a very soft purr could be heard.

Wing's nacelle pinions pricked up, twitching. He leaned forward, watching with interest and no little anticipation. He already knew these two could put on a stunning show even when they were impatient, and it didn't look like they were impatient right now.

"Such a sexy creature," Dai Atlas' voice was low, sultry and promising that he had no end of patience as he strode into the scene. His wings high and his manner with the same strength he held when Wing had first seen him. "Spread your legs. Show me what you want."

"I love it when you talk like that," Axe purred, his tone as sultry as his mate's, low and wanting. Gold-trimmed black legs parted, valve cover already open to show the platelets surrounding the entrance, lubricant glistening around the edges. "You know what I want, lover."

Wing quivered all over, those deep, purring voices sending shivers up and down his backstrut. His wings trembled against his back armor, one clattering against the blade of his Great Sword, canted to one side behind him.

"I know," Dai Atlas grinned and reached forward to run spread fingers down his mate's cockpit. "So slick, so ready, but that's not enough this orn." He whispered as he leaned forward, over his smaller mate, to claim Axe's mouth in a brief kiss. "You're going to beg for it before I give you what you want, and I'm going to have everything first."

Axe mock-pouted, leaning into the larger mech's touch and returning the kiss eagerly. "You're such a tease," he mock-whined, hands squirming against their bonds, wanting to touch the larger mech.

Wing's wings slowly unfurled, twitching slightly. His optics were riveted on the scene as Dai Atlas chuckled and began to kiss his way down Axe's cheek, then his neck.

"You love it," Wide wings quivered in arousal as their chassis rubbed together. Slow and determined lips ghosted warmth over black plating, the glossa slipping out to slide along each seam found.

Axe moaned softly, his frame shifting into the caress, one leg attempting to hook around the blue giant and pull him closer. Black armor plates flared slightly, giving better access. A whine escaped the black triple changer as he tried to free his hands, to reach up and touch Dai Atlas.

Wing's armor began to flare slowly, the jet squirming ever so slightly on the berth. What he was watching was so very hot.

Dai Atlas grinned and chuckled, allowing his mate to draw him closer, but all it did was allow the larger mech to extend his spike and begin to rub it slowly against Axe's abdominal plates.

"Does that feel good, love?" Dai Atlas purred with a deliberate roll of his hips. "It does for me."

Axe's glare contained as much lust as it did annoyance, his back arching up, pressing himself against the larger mech's frame. A stuttering gasp escaped him as Dai Atlas' spike rubbed over his abdomen, the black-armored frame writhing slightly, trying to get closer.

"Fragger," Axe growled, the word more purr than growl.

Wing's squirming became more pronounced, and he was getting hot under the armor. His wings twitched and wiggled, charge once again building in the joints.

A low chuckle rumbled up from Dai Atlas as he continued to roll his hips, stimulating Axe just a little bit while he worked his spike. Strong dentas nipped Axe's neck before lips and glossa soothed the sting.

Axe let out a low moan, tilting his helm back to give his larger mate better access to his neck, his soft hiss at the nip melting into a purr at the lick. His frame shifted under Dai Atlas', rubbing against that spike, craving more.

"Please," the black triple changer moaned.

Wing panted as he watched, wings fully spread and fluttering. One hand wandered over his own torso armor, sliding down his frame.

"Get me off first," Dai Atlas demanded with a resonant rumble that was pure seduction. "I want to feel and see my transfluid all over you as I pump more into that tight valve of yours. I'm going to mark you in every way I know how before I let you loose."

Axe's engines and turbines revved at that, his whole frame vibrating, cooling fans kicking on. He arched up into Dai Atlas, rubbing himself against the blue mech as best he could, whining and whimpering with need.

Wing echoed the whine, one hand sliding down to grasp at his own interface hatch. The seduction in the voice of the blue triple changer in the recording was having as much of an effect on the white jet as it had on Dai Atlas' own mate.

"Yes, that's it," Dai Atlas moaned, his rolling thrusts timed into Axe's undulations. His wings flared and quivered, expressing his pleasure as much as his voice did.

The black mech whined again, voice and optics expressing his need. His gaze was fixed on his mate's face, engines revving higher. Axe braced his heelplates against the surface of the berth, pressing upward against Dai Atlas' frame.

Wing's whine changed to a soft keen. Without even noticing he opened his interface hatch, fingers busy with his spike cover.

The bonded pair that had his attention took no notice, not that they could. Dai Atlas' frame stiffened slightly as his thrusts became stronger, a bit more erratic. His moans turned to grunting growls as energy began to crackle over his frame, lighting up his wings as they spread out above him.

"Yesss, that!" Dai Atlas shuddered, only a few thrusts away from pumping his transfluid all over his mate's abdominals and chest.

Axe braced himself as best he could, pressing up and shifting his frame against Dai Atlas' spike. His powerful engines and turbines revved higher, black armor rattling from the vibration. The black and gold mech's fingers wrapped around their bindings, tugging futilely at them. Blue optics never left the larger mech's face.

Wing's hand kneaded his spike, his other hand moving lower to fondle the edge of his valve cover. The young jet's lips were parted, his cooling fans going as fast as they could and his armor fluffed to let the heat out of his internals.

The roar Dai Atlas let out as he overloaded didn't carry nearly the intensity on the vid as it did in life, but the visual of a rushing torrent of crackling transfluid over black armor and the golden cockpit more than made up for the limited resonance of the sound.

Axe let out a feral, smug growl as he watched his mate's overload, his optics blazing. Hot air was practically blasting out of his vents and through his armor seams. His black-armored frame twisted under Dai Atlas, Axe desperately wanting his own overload. "Dai! Touch me! Please!"

Wing's optics were almost perfectly round, fixed on the images. One hand was feverishly working his spike, the fingers of his other hand buried in his valve.

"But I am touching you," the larger mech teased, somehow speaking despite the way he was gasping and shaking from his overload. "Spike," he hissed, claiming Axe's mouth in a fierce kiss. "Give me your spike while mine recovers."

"You know what I mean." Axe wriggled wildly under his mate for a moment. His spike almost popped out of its housing, transfluid already beading on its tip. The black mech returned the kiss with equal ferocity, nipping at Dai Atlas' lower lip.

Wing's turbines were revving high, their distinctive sound echoing through the room. He shifted so he was kneeling, legs parted to give himself access to his valve. Four fingers were buried in his valve, busy with every node they could reach. He could feel his overload building as he watched Dai Atlas shift to straddle Axe's hips and rocked for a moment. Though it wasn't visible, Wing knew exactly what was going on. Lubricant-slick platelets were rubbing against Axe's spike, smearing lubricant along the hard length and stimulating the outer valve nodes.

Axe moaned, his hips shifting, pressing upward as much as he could. His helm fell back onto the berth with a clang, hands flexing in their bonds. One heel struck sparks against the berth surface as he sought better purchase, with which to gain better leverage.

Wing keened, his optics glaring golden-white. Excess charge was beginning to nip at his systems, sending tingles through his sensor net.

Dai Atlas grinned down at his lover, unrepentant at the torment he was causing. Yet his own desire to have that spike inside him was more than he could take and he lifted up to slide the tip inside his valve with a shuddering moan. "Oh yes."

The black and gold mech gave him an annoyed growl at the teasing, the growl stuttering out into a moan as Dai Atlas finally slid the tip of Axe's spike into his valve. Bracing his pedes, Axe pressed upward with his hips, practically balancing on his shoulders, sliding as much of his spike into his mate's valve as he could even before Dai Atlas pressed down to take him the rest of the way in and pressed him to the berth.

Wing vented heavily, his keen rising in pitch. His keen hitched slightly as he caught one of the sensor nodes in his valve between two fingers, kneading it, while his other hand rode his spike. He wasn't quite frantic yet, but the charge was rising quickly between watching the two lovers and touching himself.

"You feel so good," Dai Atlas moaned, shivering as he held Axe in place for a moment, valve and spike both howling for more movement to their respective owners before it was granted.

"More," Axe pleaded, his voice rough, shifting his hips against his mate's, moving his spike within Dai Atlas' valve. "Please, more."

A soft moan escaped Wing's parted lip plates as he watched, entranced. His fingers moved deeper into his valve, stroking the lining and the sensor nodes. His other hand worked his spike, setting off all of the sensors along its length.

Huge white hands landed on either side of Axe's helm as Dai Atlas leaned forward and braced himself to rock his entire frame to slide Axe's spike in and out of himself, the camera positioned to capture the action in detail.

Axe pulled hard on the bindings holding his wrists, wanting to touch his mate and growling in frustration when they refused to give. He pressed upward into Dai Atlas' frame, rocking his hips in time with his larger mate's movements. He let out a deep, throaty moan, his gaze finding and locking onto Dai Atlas' red optics.

Wing's optics were fixed on the sight of Axe's gold-and-white-trimmed black spike sliding in and out of Dai Atlas' valve. A whine threaded through his keen, the sight driving his charge even higher. White armor puffed out all the way, the air shimmering around him from the amount of heat he was giving off.

Axe's roar came first, his entire frame arching to slam his hips into his mate, driving deeply into Dai Atlas' valve to pump heavily charged transfluid, triggering the larger mech's low, throaty moan as a weaker overload spiraled through him.

Wing's keen reached a new pitch, his body stiffening as his own overload crashed over him. Lubricant flooded over the fingers of the hand buried in his valve, his spike spurting transfluid onto the berth. The white jet trembled all over, venting heavily, his legs only barely able to hold him upright.

He glanced around quickly, making absolutely sure he was alone before returning his attention to the video. He would probably overload at _least_ once more before this video ended. It was easily one of the better ones he'd seen, no doubt because the couple loved each other deeply and enjoyed the game.

When Wing managed to focus once more, Dai Atlas had shifted and grabbed both of Axe's legs to control the black mech's movements and angle. Once again the older mech was rubbing spike along platelets, only this time it was his spike along Axe's soaked platelets.

Axe spread his legs wantonly, watching his mate with half-lidded, sultry blue optics. Lubricant was oozing around the platelets in generous amounts, forming a small, slick puddle on the surface of the berth. He let out a purring moan as Dai Atlas' spike rubbed against by now hypersensitive platelets, trying to squirm his hips closer.

Wing let out a soft moan of appreciation, lips parted, wings fluttering and wiggling behind him as his fingers began to stimulate himself once more.

"So needy, my mate," Dai Atlas purred, thrusting his hips more sharply along the rim sensors. "You never get enough, do you?"

"Not enough of you, my love," Axe purred back. "Never enough of you. Ooh!" He pressed back into Dai Atlas, wanting more, desperate for that spike he adored so much to spread him open and white his processors out like no other could.

"Then you will have more," Dai Atlas betrayed his own desires in his tone. He shifted back and lined his spike up, but took an excruciatingly long time to slide forward, ensuring that they both felt every ridge, every caliper, every sensor node of their joining.

Axe moaned deeply, as turned on by his helpless reliance on his mate's actions as the actions themselves. He squirmed slightly on the berth, whining in protest at the slow pace while simultaneously purring at the sensations produced by that slow pace. "Yesssssssssssssss."

Wing's audial fins flared wide at the sounds the two giant mechs were making. His hands quickened on his spike and in his valve. They weren't just hot, they had endurance that they hadn't displayed where Wing could hear it. Oh, to have a mate like that!

Unlike before, this time Dai Atlas seemed to have no inclination to speed up. He took his mate slowly, methodically, every movement intended to create pleasure but also to draw it out.

The black and gold triple changer squirmed and panted, wordlessly pleading for his mate to move faster. Pleasure was cascading through his sensor net, every slow, methodical movement driving his charge higher.

Wing was getting so very jealous. He wished he had a partner like that, with that kind of endurance. Maybe someday, Primus willing, he would have that for himself. Whining softly, he pumped his spike, thumb rubbing over the platelets around his valve as his fingers delved deeper.

It was getting entirely too intense. He half hoped this was their last round. He doubted he had enough in him to take any more than this.

But it felt oh so very good. He could imagine the hands weren't his own, that a warm frame was against his back, nibbling on his neck, crooning at him to relax and submit, that everything would be taken care of. He could only hold that fantasy as the couple he was watching thrust and squirmed, moaning and panting as their pleasure built once more.

Wing's optics fixed on the video, part of his mind trying to build a fantasy-image of his partner. His hands continued to work his spike and valve, his hips jerking slightly despite his best efforts to hold still. White audial fins twitched at every sound the two giants made, his own soft whine twining around their grunts and moans and the revving of powerful engines and turbines.

"So tight. So slick. So _good_," Dai Atlas moaned between grunts, his entire frame straining in the effort not to pound his lover into the berth.

Axe echoed the moan, the calipers of his valve rippling against his mate's spike in a complex pattern. He was determined to break Dai Atlas' control, get him to move faster and harder. "More, Dai, _please_."

Wing echoed the moan, optics wide and only partly seeing the video. Charge was building fast across his systems.

"Spark," Dai Atlas demanded, letting Axe's legs go so they could get chest to chest.

Black armor plates promptly parted, folding out of the way. Blue light flooded from within Axe's chest, his spark flaring brilliantly within its crystalline prison. Threads of blue light crawled across the spark's casing, trying to reach out toward blue armor.

Wing keened, watching. He had yet to find a partner he'd want to share sparks with. Maybe someday he would have that chance. His hands moved faster on spike and in valve, bringing him closer to overload as deep red tendrils extended towards blue in an electric dance of sharing and pleasure far deeper and more intimate than any physical one.

Both mechs in the vid stilled, their focus on their merging sparks rather than the more carnal pleasures of their frame.

Wing's optics were fixed on what was happening, watching blue and red tendrils of light and energy wrap around each other, listening to the sharp gasps and moans of the two giant mechs. Keening and whining, Wing quickened the motion of his hands, threads of charge beginning to dart along his circuits as overload took him once more. The world whited out for him completely, his frame not his to command and pleasure the only sensation he could process.

He came back to awareness gradually, sated and content to simply exist for a time.

It took the young jet a few kliks for his processors to sort themselves out. Picking himself up off the berth and shifting back into a sitting position. Looking at the mess he'd left on the berth, Wing was glad he carried a few rags in subspace. Quickly cleaning himself up, he turned his attention to the projector, realizing that after the ending of the video recording, he had missed quite a bit of material.

With a sigh he stood, still a bit shaky, and walked up to rewind to see what he'd missed. Even only half paying attention he saw several maps flash ... only when he watched going forward, they weren't there.

White wings flared in astonishment. Wing worked the projector's controls, rewinding until he saw one of the maps, then pausing the recorder. Narrowing his optics, he stared at the display. Unlike the normal captures, this one had no captions, but it was _detailed_, far beyond the kind of map that a visitor would get when coming to a new place. Pits, it was more detailed than the one Wing currently had of the Citadel and surrounding lands.

It was of a big place too, several times the size of the Citadel.

Wing stared at what could only be the schematics for a military base for a long time. Finally prodding himself into action, he began rewinding the projector again, pausing on these hidden images to study them, staring at each for a long time before moving to the next.

"There's an easier way to access those," a deep rumbling voice came from behind him.

Wing had been so focused on the images that he'd never even noticed the other mech approaching. Yelping in surprise, Wing instinctively launched himself away from the source of the voice. Unfortunately, that launch took him straight into the wall hard enough to make his optics cross. Shaking his helm to clear it, he turned to look at whoever had walked in behind him, his expression very similar to that of a sparkling caught raiding the jar of energon treats. "Axe!"

The large black and gold mech raised an optic ridge as he leaned against the doorframe. "Yes, and you're a bit jumpy."

The white jet squirmed, looking even more like a youngling caught doing Something Not Allowed. "I wasn't expecting anyone to come here. Dai Atlas won't be finished with his penance for some time."

"I know," the big mech twitched, the only real physical display of how much he was affected by what was going on below. "So how about telling me why you're watching my mate's memory collection as porn?"

Wing inched backward a bit. "Orders. After Hardwing finished my repairs, Master Aurora called me to her office. There are rumors going around, and she ordered me to snoop."

A scowl crossed Axe's features, though it was hard to tell if it was Wing or his bond causing it. "So what, exactly, are you looking for?"

Wing took another step backward, closer to the wall. "Proof of innocence." He watched the larger mech warily.

"Of the six things I know are likely to come up, we _are_ guilty of all but one," Axe pointed out with a muttered sigh. "We also admitted to our crimes before we were allowed to stay the decaorn. Just what does she think we're innocent of doing?"

Wing ruffled his wings uneasily. "There are rumors going around that Dai Atlas was sowing unrest against the Prime, and rumors of having contact with underground movements intent on overthrowing him. I don't believe any of it."

Axe rolled his optics. "Can't say I'm surprised. It's also all but impossible to prove otherwise. As justified as we'd be in doing so, we wouldn't be _here_ if that was our goal." He paused. "She knows we're labeled traitors and we are technically deserters. What did she send you to find to prove we aren't active against the Prime?"

"She didn't tell me to look for anything in particular. She just told me to look." Wing had to shrug slightly, indicating he didn't know exactly what to look for.

"Right," Axe sighed and settled his armor uneasily. "So I can answer questions or I can leave you to your watching."

"I'm just about finished with the watching," Wing admitted. He glanced at the projector for a moment, before deciding to ask one question that had been bugging him. "How did Dai Atlas know Snapjaw?"

There was a pause as Axe tracked down the files attached to that designation. "She was a scout that reported to him some vorns ago. She was exceptional in organic environments, preferring an alt that resembled a rich brown long legged turbofox when she could. Dai Atlas accepted her buyout ... maybe seven and a half centuries ago. She's a playful mecha, as long as it's a good orn."

"I know her as Demeter, and she's on walkabout right now," Wing revealed. "Will be back in a century or so."

That raised an optic ridge. "Interesting. I wouldn't have guessed her for the Knight type."

"She seems to fit in well here." Wing shifted slightly. There was one more thing he wanted to ask, but wasn't sure how to phrase it. Nervousness was practically pouring off him.

"I'm not going to hit you," Axe prodded gently.

"When I was watching what the projector contains, I noticed that Dai Atlas had been bonded before, and I was wondering what happened to his previous mate." Wing flared his audial fins slightly, waiting to see if Axe would answer.

"He extinguished," Axe shrugged. "It's what happens to warriors. I never asked about details. I'm his third bonded, for reference. He's my second."

Wing blinked at the larger black mech. He couldn't imagine that amount of pain, to lose two bonded mates. To lose even one would have been excruciating, Wing thought.

The white jet glanced at the projector, then at the hidden image still frozen on the screen.

"What ... what happened to your first mate?" Wing decided that it was worth the risk in asking.

Axe deflated almost instantly. "I was young and arrogant. He'd been around long enough, a senior Captain when I was sparked, that I believed him when he said nothing was going to happen to him. He was gone only three battles later. I didn't have him a full vorn. It was one of the reasons I got transferred. I couldn't stand the pity I got from those who knew."

The small jet made a sad sound, wings shifting slightly. After a moment, he tilted his helm toward the projector. "Why hide the maps between the other pictures?"

"Hide?" Axe cocked his helm, focusing on the projector and map on display to place it.

"They're only visible when the files are being rewound. Playing normally, they're not visible at all." Wing turned on the projector to demonstrate. "They're hidden. Why hide them?"

Axe made a curious sound and walked up to the projector and placed his hand in the display. Immediately it responded to him by bringing up a control menu, something Wing had never seen the likes of. Fingers manipulated the interface so fast that it was difficult to follow.

A small scowl crossed Axe's features. "I think it's a glitch. They don't play on forward because, well, why would you want to look at maps in a memory files session?" he glanced down at Wing. "Those maps are all in a subfolder that doesn't normally play. I told you there were easier ways to see them."

Wing blinked at the display, peering around the larger mech's arm. "Huh. So the fact that they're appearing at all when their folder isn't open is a glitch?" He rubbed the back of his helm, confused.

"That's my guess," he nodded. "See, they're here," he pulled up the folder structure for the device and pointed to the master folder labeled 'Do Not Play' that had several subfolders; Maps, Schematics, Pain, Secured.

Gold optics narrowed. "And that is a label that just screams 'play me!' to anyone else who might be inclined to pry. With big neon letters." He tilted his helm. "Why keep maps and schematics like these, anyway?" His optics caught on the "Pain" label, but he said nothing.

"That I'm not as sure," Axe admitted. "I do know that they're the places he's served. I would assume he got them when he was stationed at a given base. I may be bonded to him, but I don't know how his processor works sometimes. Like _that_," he pointed at the one labeled 'pain', "is a folder I'd delete the contents of."

Wing tilted his helm at Axe, his expression asking for clarification. "Why? What is it?" Gold optics went from the larger mech's face to the file heading and back again.

"Funerals, kills that affected him, punishments. It's what it says; captures of what you deal with during a binding with pink cord. Why he keeps them is beyond me."

Wing's nacelle pinions drooped. "It keeps the pain from healing."

"Probably," Axe muttered. "Others will call it them a reminder of why you don't fail, or lessons learned. Not the kind of things I keep on mine ... well I do keep some funerals. But nothing like what's here."

"There's learning from failure, and then there's dwelling on failure. One is healthy, one isn't. This seems more like dwelling on failure to me." White armor ruffled. "He needs to get past that. I truly hope he overcomes his past during the course of his training..."

Axe glanced at him. "I was under the impression he has to, or he will not become a Knight."

"He has to address and accept his past." Wing's golden optics met blue. "The good and the bad. I do want to see him bond his own Great Sword and become a Knight. He has a great deal of potential."

Axe turned the holo-projector off and considered Wing for a moment. Then he stepped away and sat on the berth. "I've heard that a few times, bonding to the weapon. How do you _bond_ to an _object_?"

"Great Swords are not mere objects. They're nothing like the weapons you're used to." Wing settled onto the berth, taking his Great Sword off his back and laying it across his thighs so Axe could get a better look at it. The blue crystal in the hilt glowed warmly. "This is the Great Sword that bonded to me. Its designation is Too Pure For This World."

Axe's gaze shifted from Wing to the large weapon and back again. His field extended cautiously, not just out of a sense of privacy for Wing, but because of his own stressed state. It was too much to ignore though, not to _try_ and feel the Great Sword as he would a new mecha.

The Great Sword's gem flared, energy pulsing against Axe's field. It was clearly coming from the Great Sword itself, not the weapon's bearer. There was a vague sense of _curiosity-not mine_ behind the energy pulse, the pulse reaching out to lightly brush Axe's before withdrawing. The pulse felt similar to a mech's energy field, but different in its own way.

"Does it talk to you?" Axe asked, both very curious and slightly unsettled.

"Not so much in words as in feelings or image-ideas," Wing answered. "The Great Swords are classed as semi-sentient. They do bond with their bearers, and they remember each mech who's ever carried them. Each new bearer makes the Great Sword's personality more complex. And they choose their own bearers, rather than vice versa."

That made Axe stiffen. "So there's no way to be sure Dai Atlas' will like me before it's far too late."

"I have yet to come across a case of a Sword disliking its bearer's mate," Wing admitted. "Even if it grumbles, or sulks, it can be ignored. Some are more opinionated than others, but in general the personalities of Sword and bearer tend to compliment each other. You want to become a Knight yourself. I can't see whichever Great Sword chooses Dai objecting to you."

"I hope so," Axe said softly, still uneasy. "I've seen such things go badly too many times."

The Great Sword on Wing's lap pulsed with energy again, this time with a _calm-you'll be fine_ feel to it. Wing looked down at it, then smiled at Axe. "Whatever happens, it's still a long time in the future. That bridge will be crossed when we get there."

"True," the older mech nodded. "Centuries, if I understand correctly. Did you see anything else you wondered about?"

"Just impressed by all the mecha Dai Atlas has known through his existence." Wing returned his Great Sword to his back. "I did notice another swordsmech in a few of the pictures. Was he any good?"

Axe laughed, a rich, bright sound so at odds with his field of late. "Oh yes, Titanium is very good. So he's not someone you recognize? We were wondering if he might have trained here. Not that many styles use two swords."

"Titanium." Wing turned the designation over on his glossa. "It's not a designation I recognize. He might have been well before my time, or he might never have been here."

"True, he's an _old_ mech," Axe nodded. "He was good company, though I hope we don't meet him again anytime soon."

"Because he's still in the military?" Wing hazarded a guess.

"Last we heard of him, yes," Axe nodded. "He's more likely than most to pretend he didn't see us, but it's as risk I'd rather not take. He's a good mech, just on the wrong side of the law from us at the moment."

Wing nodded. "I can see why you wouldn't want to meet him. At least not until after Nova is no longer Prime."

"And we've been pardoned by the new one, if that happens," Axe nodded. "Dai Atlas swears that Primes are like a pendulum. You get an aggressive, military, expansionalist one, and the next one will be about stabilizing, trade and rebuilding damage. Then you get another militant one. So there's hope that the next one will be sane, but it's never a sure thing."

Wing reached over to poke the black mech. "Don't jinx yourself. Just keep your fingers crossed. Primus willing, the next Prime will pardon you and Dai."

"Primus willing," Axe agreed. "It will be nice to fly again."

"I'd like to see you and Atlas fly," Wing agreed. "I'd like to fly with you." Slender white wings wiggled at the thought.

"We shall see," Axe nodded. "Was there anything else you'd like to know?" he motioned towards the holo-projector.

Wing was curious about the other files listed under the "DO NOT PLAY" heading, but he wasn't sure if he should mention that to the black mech, or if he should wait until he was alone again before poking at it himself. He eyed the projector for a moment, pondering.

"I do admit I'm curious about the other files Atlas had marked under 'Do Not Play'," the small white jet finally admitted. "Aurora told me to check _everything_."

"Just remember that you _asked_," Axe regarded him evenly even as he stood to activate the secured folders, beginning with the one that was pretty much self-explanatory: Pain.

The first capture that came up was a battlefield somewhere on Cybertron, or it looked to be Cybertron, at least, at some point in the distant past. The focal point was a mech, grayed in deactivation, with his chest exploded open.

The jet straightened, his armor ruffling. "Yes, I asked." His gold optics were serious as they met Axe's blue before turning back to the screen.

Slender wings twitched as Wing gazed at the dead mech. He scanned the image capture, looking for any captions or indications of who the mech had been.

There, the top left corner, a rank and designation glyph. Captain Steelcrest.

"His first serious lover," Axe supplied.

Wing hummed softly. "A loss that would have had a profound effect on him," the jet agreed, absently resting one hand on Axe's armor as the large mech sat back down. His attention remained on the projection as the next image came up.

"Yes, though a regrettably common one for our kind," Axe said, watching and nearly as curious as Wing. He's seen some of these images, been there for others and heard about more, but he'd never actually checked the folder out.

The next one, actually a series of six that transitioned quickly, had Wing twitter in confusion.

"Smelting what was left of Steelcrest after the useful parts had been stripped by the medics," Axe explained quietly. "There are those who do that as their function, but if a mecha mattered to you, you can put a request in to do so yourself. We did for those creations that we could retrieve the frames of."

"I can't imagine having to do that... But then, I've spent most of my life here, and I'm getting the feeling that, living within the Citadel, I have been very sheltered." Wing sat next to Axe, leaning against his arm. "Those image captures of the single mecha in the main file, with the activation and deactivation dates... Were those Atlas' creations?"

"Some. Others are mentors, SICs and TICs, mecha who made an impact on him in a good way," Axe said, thinking over the collection. "They're all mecha he wants to remember, so someone does." He paused, considering Wing. "How much do you study the history of theology and cultural studies?"

"I probably don't know as much as I should," Wing admitted. "I did study it to some degree before I arrived here. In the Citadel, mostly what we study is the history and culture of the Citadel and the Knights." He looked at the black mech curiously.

"Right, so the prevailing belief when Dai Atlas was created, at least among the military, was that a spark only continued to survive as long as someone living remembered who and what it was while it had a frame," Axe explained. "For warriors of his generation, the way you protected those important to you was to ensure that their designations were never forgotten."

The compact jet nodded slowly. "That makes sense... And it explains the extensive collection of image captures." He looked at the display, watching as several other images appeared.

He recognized the fundamentals of a funeral, even if it wasn't like any he'd seen before. It wasn't long before the captures and vids became repetitive in a way. The military had a formula on how to do everything, and it was followed to the glyph. Like the images of those who had been living, enjoying existence, the funerals, smelters and captures of gray and graying frames became strangely repetitive, almost numbing since Wing didn't have any connection to these mecha.

Wing didn't say much as the videos and image captures played out on the screen, maintaining a soft, sad hum in the back of his throat. This file did explain the loss and pain Dai Atlas had gone through during his first binding. Wing's spark ached for his Initiate, hoping he would be able to face and accept that pain. He x-vented slowly, settling slightly as they finished with the "pain" folder. The white jet eyed the remaining three choices. "What's in the folder marked Secured?"

"A guess is things that shouldn't be seen," Axe shrugged as he rolled forward to his pedes to access the menu once more. "That's what security is for."

Wing hummed his understanding, a knot of guilt twisting in his spark as Axe worked to get access to the folder. Eventually it opened, but not to play. Instead there was a list of files.

"Dai Atlas really should be the one doing this," Axe said uneasily. "I recognize the setup. Pick a wrong file and the system self-destructs."

White armor ruffled as Wing frowned at the list of files. "I'd rather not destroy the whole system... But I'm not sure if I could ask Dai Atlas about this. I've walked in on him looking through the main file more than once and he always shuts it off as soon as he notices me." The white jet chewed his lower lip slightly as he debated what to do next.

"He's being polite," Axe chuckled, shaking his helm. "You're his senior in rank. If he didn't give you his full attention when you came in he's flipping you off big time. That's a punishable offense in the military."

"I'm a lot more easy-going than most military mechs," Wing pointed out. He looked at the display again, clearly debating whether or not he should chance poking around if one wrong choice would cause the system to self-destruct.

"So's he. It doesn't make some basic social rules any less ingrained," Axe shrugged. "Have you ever _told_ him he doesn't need to pause and give you his full attention?"

"Not yet," Wing admitted. "Something I'll have to do when he's finished his penance. The social rules are different here; it'll take time to adjust to either way."

"It will," Axe agreed as he backed out of the folder. "The first step is to be blunt about what is, and isn't, expected of him. Even at our rank the military is _very_ blunt, in writing, about what is expected. Officers are a bit better than most since we're political as well, but we're still programmed to be very obedient to the law and orders."

The jet's attention was more on the larger mech than on the projector. Wing nodded as he accepted the advice. "I'll keep that in mind." He regarded the file directory. "What about the Maps file?"

Axe opened it to another listing of files, this one of designations. "Let's see, we have folders for bases, cities, planets, space navigation and other."

Wing's audial fins flared as he regarded the list. It was interesting to see just how many places his Initiate had been over the centuries. "What's in 'other'?"

Axe opened that folder and scanned the titles, then laughed. "His favorite bars and the medbays he's most likely to be loopy in."

Wing laughed, catching himself to make sure he didn't slide off the berth. "And there's another thing to adjust to... Knights don't get drunk. We do enjoy high-grade, but more for the taste than the effects. We don't get thoroughly plastered here." He braced himself, getting himself back under control, though the odd snicker still escaped.

"While it's been a favorite pastime for warriors since Prima's time," Axe shook his helm with a low chuckle. "It helps pass the time, numb pain of all kinds and makes it much easier to get to know the mecha you're going to depend on."

"In the Citadel, getting thoroughly plastered is frowned upon. It's against our rules. There's nothing against having a couple of drinks with friends as long as it doesn't go too far. And during our rare celebrations, such as when new Knights are brought into our ranks, high-grade is readily available to everyone." Wing fluttered his wings, settling them against his back neatly.

"We did notice," Axe nodded and dropped onto the berth again. "I don't think I've not been overcharged in this long _ever_."

Wing leaned against a black-armored side. "Is that a bad thing?"

Axe hummed. "I can't say it feels like a good thing. It's like not flying. We'll just have to get used to it. It's our existence now."

Wing patted Axe's arm. "It will take time, but you'll get used to it." He grinned. "And when Atl finally gets around to picking you as his Initiate, you'll be too busy to worry about it." Turning his attention to the projector, he began looking at some of the other maps the files contained, from cities to star maps and navigation charts.

"I'm sure," Axe chuckled. "It'll be basic training all over again, only one on one."

Wing chirred softly to himself as he went through the maps, occasionally asking Axe about some of the places the maps showed. It took him a breem or so to work his way through all the files, golden optics bright with curious interest.

"So many different places," the small jet murmured to himself as he finished looking at the last map. Then his nacelle pinions flared in surprise as the main folder began to play again, and what it started with this time drew a squeak from Wing's vocalizer and a deep, hungry rumble from Axe's entire frame.

"Damn, that was an intensely hot time," Axe's arousal flared through his field, nearly enveloping Wing and pressing in on his very spark.

Wing's field flared in response to Axe's, the semi-permanent arousal that was always in his field surging. The smaller mech whined softly. "I can imagine... You and Dai are very hot together." That was as good as an admission that Wing had been watching some of the other vids in the main folder.

"We know each other well." Axe trembled, debating with himself and his personal morals. It wasn't against the regulations here, but it had been so long since he'd strayed from his mate. It was so rare that they couldn't find enough time for each other. Right now he wanted to get off, badly. He wanted the feeling of a warm, willing frame under his to take his processor off the ache in his spark.

Wing backed up to sit on the berth next to Axe again, armor fluffing, wings twitching and wiggling against his back. As before, what he was watching was visibly winding him up. Another soft whine escaped, accompanying a squirm.

"You can say no," Axe's voice startled him nearly as much as the large black hand that spread across his chest and pressed him to lay back.

Wing yipped in surprise, the yip melting into a purr as he sank back onto the berth. Hearing Axe's words, Wing let out a soft laugh. "Why would I want to say no? As long as neither you nor Dai has any objections, neither do I." He reached up to touch dark armor, tracing the smooth surfaces of the plates and along the seams, exploring the contours of Axe's frame. His field pulsing invitingly against the larger mech's.

"We don't. It's just a rare time when we feel the desire to stray," Axe rumbled as he rolled to brace himself on top of the white jet. The first touch of their lips was almost hesitant, both feeling out the new dynamic and what was going to happen.

Wing's glossa flicked delicately against Axe's lower lip, gold optics meeting blue. The jet's smaller hands ran over the larger mech's chest, over his cockpit and up to his shoulders. White wings slowly flared out to their full span, quivering slightly.

"Such pretty little wings," Axe grinned before his glossa slid out to seek entrance into Wing's mouth. One hand shifted to stroke the offered wings as his spike cover slid back.

Wing's lips parted, granting access. He purred into the kiss, wings leaning into the stroking, offering the joints and smooth surfaces for petting. His valve cover almost popped open, the platelets glistening with lubricants. One dark hand ran along the curves of Axe's shoulder while the other rose to play with the spikes adorning the black and gold mech's helm.

Gently Axe drew back a bit and met Wing's optics. "Ever had a lover my size before?"

Wing hummed softly. "No one quite as big as you, but I have had lovers who were larger than I."

"Good," he rumbled, locking his arousal down to a level where he could take as much time as needed to get the smaller mech ready. A valve could stretch to incredible levels, but if it wasn't done gradually it could be intensely painful. The hand disappeared from Wing's wing to slip between them. Fingers played along hot, slick, relaxed platelets, teasing for a moment as he returned to kissing.

White wings fluttered at the loss of the contact, wiggling against the berth before settling, quivering all the way from tip to base. Wing moaned softly into the kiss as Axe's fingers ran over the platelets, hips squirming into the black mech's hand, the jet parting his legs farther to give Axe more access.

One large black finger, nearly the size of Wing's spike, pressed inside, stroking and testing. The white jet's valve was already thick with lubricant, almost dripping. He pressed back onto Axe's finger, calipers rippling down against the intruding digit. The addition of a second finger caused a shiver to run through Wing's frame, the jet letting out a soft cry that melted into a moan of bliss. He clung to Axe's frame, fingers gliding over armor seams, one hand still busy playing with Axe's helm spikes and audial flares.

Axe moaned, the movement of his fingers and the slick tightness around them driving his arousal higher until he was panting. "Ready?" he gasped out, almost desperate to sink his spike into the smaller mech.

"Take me," Wing purred in response, half-lidded optics gazing up into bright blue. He tilted his hips invitingly, wanting that gold-trimmed black spike to sink deep into his valve.

It was all Axe could stand. His fingers pulled out, curling slightly as they withdrew. "Whoever claims you will be a lucky mech," he rumbled, leaning down to kiss Wing as he slid his hips forward, sinking slowly into the slick tightness that was his mate's instructor.

Wing returned the kiss eagerly, his glossa exploring the larger mech's mouth. He gasped into the kiss as Axe's spike pushed through the platelets into his valve, his back arching, hips rolling into the slow thrust. The jet's legs came up, curling around Axe's hips, hands raking lightly down Axe's broad back as he was filled and stretched like no lover before.

Axe continued to press forward until the tip of his spike had stretched the top of Wing's valve fully and held there, shaking with need, almost fully sheathed. "Damn you're tight."

Wing keened softly, nipping at Axe's chin, venting heavily. He was so full, and it felt _incredible_. He shifted his hips, rubbing his plating against the black mech's, his fingers finding a transformation seam and slipping inside. "That feels so _good_..."

"Yesss," Axe groaned in agreement and shifted to balance more on his knees to keep a hand free to brace Wing's hips, holding him in place as he drew back, than slammed forward with a primal roar.

Wing clung to the larger mech's frame, his field awash with sheer bliss. He moved into each thrust as much as he could, hands busy in the seams between black armor plates, tilting his helm to nip along the cables of Axe's neck. Each thrust drew a soft moan of pure ecstasy from him.

Blue optics turned off and shutters closed as Axe lost himself in the slide, the heat, the tightness and the pleasure flaring across his circuits. This wasn't his mate, but it was a willing lover and it felt _good_ to lose himself in the raw physical simplicity of this interface. He didn't have to think, only thrust and feel.

Gold optics flared almost white, staring unseeing over Axe's shoulder toward the ceiling. Wing's armor was fully puffed out, his cooling fans whining as they attempted to circulate enough air to cool his internals. The air around him shimmered with heat. Blissful moans, mews, and gasps escaped his vocalizer, his hips rolling into each thrust, taking Axe's spike in as deep as it could go.

Above him Axe's armor was also fluffed, aiding powerful fans and triple redundant systems designed to fight for orns without relief to cool his systems. Each thrust came with a grunt and crackle of energy until he slammed in hard, transfluid erupting from his spike to fill the scant space inside Wing's valve. It spilled out as Axe drew back and slammed in again.

Wing overloaded with a shriek, his back arching, pressing his chestplate against Axe's, their cockpits scraping together, helm thrown back. The calipers of his valve clamped down as much as they could on Axe's spike. Charge snapped and danced over white plating, arcing between the tips of his audial flares, crackling along the twitching lengths of his wings.

Axe's denta gritted, bared as he continued to thrust right thorough both their overloads, headless of the intensity. He wanted, _needed_ to drive himself to the full oblivion of stasis recharge from interfacing. One full night of recharge was his goal more than the pleasure that would bring it.

Wing panted, feeling the charge start to build a second time. He dug his fingers into armor seams, wiggling into joints, stroking the circuitry and machinery underneath. The jet nipped at Axe's helm, rubbing his cheek against the larger mech's, leaving flecks of white paint behind and not even noticing.

He could feel the shift in feel of Axe's field, and somewhere in his processor he worked out what the larger mech needed. With a trill and kiss that was hardly noticed he willingly gave his frame over to the mech in need. It would be worth the soreness to give his Initiate's mate some much needed relief.

S=================== S

Processors booted readily enough, fast enough to notice that his frame wasn't nearly as willing to respond. Low fuel and energy warnings pinged, and several messages he needed to read, he wasn't with Dai Atlas, but he wasn't alone either.

Sprawled across Axe's frame was a smaller form, the slight vibration indicating that the mech was purring in their recharge. Wing was draped over Axe's chest, helm resting against a black shoulder, wings flopped open and twitching every now and then. Black paint scuffs showed in his white finish, and the scent of lubricant and transfluid still lingered in the air.

It was enough to place everything in order for Axe. With a faint smile he organized his frame enough to lift a hand to stroke the white jet's back, hoping that Wing's current contentment would hold once he woke up ... and that he wasn't damaged to the point that Hardwing would get involved.

The purr picked up, the recharging jet leaning into the touch. A klik later, Wing began to stir, moving slightly against Axe's armor before gold optics began warming up behind their shutters. The white mech yawned, then turned his helm until recharge-hazed gold optics met blue, Wing smiling at the larger mech while a contented hum threaded its way through the purr.

"Thank you," Axe rumbled, continuing to stroke Wing's back.

"You're welcome," the smaller mech replied, leaning forward to lightly kiss Axe's cheek, then settled back down. He stretched, making a brief face, before settling again and leaning into Axe's strokes.

"Just how sore are you?" Axe's field reached out to judge for himself, a skill that was invaluable both as the mate to a warrior and as a commanding officer.

"Not as bad as it could have been, and no damage my internal repair systems can't handle." Wing let his field merge with Axe's, his purr never letting up. "I'll probably be walking funny for a joor or so, but last night was worth it."

"I'm glad you think so," Axe smiled warmly, his thumb coming up to rub Wing's cheek. "I needed it. There's only so much blocking that can be done for a bond that's habitually held open."

"It was so very worth it." Wing leaned into Axe's hand, golden optics warm and contented. "I understand. I would be happy to help again, if you need it."

Axe hummed, then trilled softly. "I will come, if I need it," he promised. "I would not be surprised if I do before this penance is over. He has a long way to go yet," he sighed sadly. "It would be good if we can introduce Dai to someone who can do this for him, for when I face it. I know he's had lovers your size, but I don't think it would be good for you to try and take him in that state."

Wing smiled, rubbing his cheek against Axe's hand. "I will be here when you need me." The white jet made a soft sound. "It's a possibility, though it might take a little hunting."

"Yes, even if he wasn't picky we have a limited number of mechs to even consider," Axe murmured and let his optics turn off briefly. "How are your energy levels?"

Wing hummed as he checked his energy levels. "A little on the low side. How're yours?"

"Low," Axe admitted. "I've been burning through a lot lately."

Wing needed a moment to pry himself away from the petting. "I keep energon here in my quarters, including larger cubes for Dai." He slid off the berth, holding onto the edge to keep his balance. After a moment, he moved out into the main room to where he kept the energon. When he returned, he carried two larger cubes for Axe and two smaller for himself, offering the larger cubes to the black triple changer.

"Thank you," Axe accepted them only to set them aside to pick Wing up and settle him on the berth. "Have you ever met an interface you didn't enjoy?" he asked teasingly before making short work of his first cube.

Wing grinned, puffing up proudly as he leaned against Axe. "Nope, I never have. Ask any of the other Knights. I've never met a pleasure I didn't want to indulge in." Gold optics sparkled over the edge of the cube as he took a sip.

The big mech just laughed and began to drink his second cube more sedately now that he didn't have his secondary tank flashing warnings at him. "They must have _missed_ you when you were out and about."

The white jet chuckled. "Quite a few mechs missed me while I was on walkabout. Some of them lost no time in tracking me down when I got back." Putting his empty cube down, he picked up the second, leaning against the warmth of Axe's torso and trilling happily at the welcoming field he felt.

With a smile Axe slid an arm around him, lightly rubbing Wing's side as they refueled. "Do you have one you'd prefer to get all that black off you?"

"I don't have any real preference," Wing replied, leaning against him and purring softly at the stroking. Raising a hand, he traced a matching streak of white on Axe's chestplate. "You help me, and I'll help you?"

"It sounds good to me," Axe smiled down at him fondly.

S=================== S

One orn turned to two, which turned to six, then fourteen. That continued to a full decaorn, then two.

Vanguard, Sovereign of the Light, couldn't even express his relief when Dai Atlas finally sobbed softly as a sound of release rather than grief sixty-six full orns into his penance binding.

The big Seeker stretched, flexing his wings before moving closer to Dai Atlas, extending his field to brush against the former General's. Drawing a small knife from its hiding place, he used his field to ask if Dai Atlas was ready to be released.

The response was shaky, coherent thought not really something Dai Atlas could manage at the moment, but it was also calm and clear: yes.

Vanguard took the precaution of summoning Hardwing as he used the knife to cut the bindings, catching the blue mech as Dai Atlas slumped backward. The large mech's hands were a faded gray, as was the armor of his forearms, the metal cold to the touch.

"You have done very well," the Seeker murmured, though he wasn't sure if Dai Atlas could actually hear him.

A sound came from Dai Atlas, though it was incoherent at best. Only his field revealed any level of comprehension, and that was unlikely to be from the words, but from Vanguard's field.

The door opened as Vanguard lay Dai Atlas on the ground. "What a mess," Hardwing grumbled, Redline right behind him with the hover-stretcher.

"He has been bound for over sixty-six _orns_," Redline pointed out. "Two thousand, seven hundred and seventy-four joors."

Vanguard looked up as the two came in. "Get him to the medical bay and see what needs to be done. His arms and hands have been without power or energon for the entire duration of the binding, and he has been on an energon I.V. as well, so he has not properly eaten either."

The Sovereign helped lift Dai Atlas' bulk onto the hover-stretcher, retrieving his Great Sword and following the two medics to the medical bay.

New traveled fast that this near-record binding was over, drawing curious Knights to see the results on both Initiate and Sovereign. It was Aurora who actually dared approach as they neared the medbay.

"Did he break or heal?" she asked calmly, regarding the mech who'd lost much of his blue to gray.

"He healed," Vanguard answered, pride in his voice. "Dai Atlas has made an important step forward." White optics swept over the gathering Knights. "Wing and Axe will find out shortly that the binding is over, though Axe probably already knows."

"I do," Axe's voice was shaking as his large black and gold frame appeared in the doorway, Wing a step behind him and Atl a couple paces further back. "Can you repair the damage?" He focused on Hardwing.

The chief medic nodded. "I can repair him. It might take a few joors, but he will be fine." He looked at Wing. "And you will let him rest for another couple of orns before you resume his training. _Light_ training only for half a decaorn, until he gets his strength back."

Wing nodded, fluttering his wings. "Message received."

Axe was more focused on his mate and just how much gray was there. He stepped up to the helm of the hover-stretcher and placed a hand firmly on each of his mate's shoulders, lowering his helm to touch forehelms. Soft shushing sounds came as he calmed his mate. The pain and loss of function was beginning to register.

Wing hovered closer, golden optics taking in the grayed blue plating. One hand snuck out to touch Dai Atlas' much larger hand. Hardwing shooed the small jet away, glancing at the black and gold mech as he and Redline guided the hover-stretcher to the medberth for mecha Dai Atlas' size. For now a calm patient was more useful than shooing the mate away.

"Ready to move him?" Axe glanced at the medics, ready to assist. "I'm a fully trained field medic."

Hardwing gave the black and gold triple changer a long look, then nodded. "Yes, we're ready to move him. You may stay, but everyone else has to clear out." He glared pointedly at the other Knights crowding the doorway. "That includes you, Wing. One of us will let you know when he's repaired and conscious."

Wing blinked at Hardwing, then nodded, backing off. Vanguard watched for a moment, then began herding the crowd back out of the medbay.

"Wing, come with me," Vanguard spoke to the smaller jet, motioning him to continue outside so they could fly while they spoke.

Wing nodded, following the Seeker out of the medical bay. Flaring open his wings, nacelles revving to full power, Wing lifted off, hovering above the balcony as Vanguard lifted off.

The pair transformed and began to circle upward in a relaxed pattern of two fast fliers out to enjoy their wings.

"Your Initiate did very well," Vanguard began, not hiding his pride at what he had witnessed. "The scale of what he endured, grappled with, accepted and overcame has broken full Master Knights."

"He's a strong mech," Wing agreed. "Dai Atlas will make a fine Knight once his training is finished." The young white jet barrel-rolled once, then settled in next to Vanguard.

"Yes he will," the Sovereign agreed. "You chose well in him. He has much he can teach you, just as you have much to teach him. Train him well and he will help you evolve as a mech for a long time to come."

Wing's chirr of agreement was audible even over the sound of their engines. "I will," the younger mech replied. "I look forward to learning what he has to teach me."

"Good," he rumbled in approval, a tone that was often difficult to earn. "Because of his history and age, this is unlikely to be the first unpleasant surprise. He does well in functioning, but so much of his past has not been dealt with the way we insist it be dealt with. Come to me, or Aurora or Marwir if you do not understand how to help him. We have all spent far more than a walkabout in the outside world and are old enough to understand how pain festers."

Wing would have nodded had he been in his bipedal form. Instead, he waggled short wings in acknowledgement. "There's a lot of pain in his past; I'm well aware that this situation most likely will be coming up several more times at the least. You'll likely be seeing a lot of me asking for advice in the future."

"Good," Vanguard hummed in strong approval. "He is your Initiate, but we _all_ help guide every Initiate to Knight, whether the Initiate realizes it or not. You should be aware that several of us are debating whether Axe should remain a Supplicant until Dai Atlas is further in his training so only one of them is likely to have this kind of binding at a time. Their bond is old, strong and open. As you have seen, when one is this distressed the other will have great difficulty with the kind of training we do."

Wing hummed. "I have noticed; I helped Axe deal with what was coming through the bond, and I know he spent time with Atl as well. Dai Atlas would be harder to deal with in that position. It's something Axe and I were making note of while waiting out Dai Atlas' penance."

"What qualities do you need in the one to help your Initiate?" Vanguard asked, his processors going over the few things Wing wouldn't believe he could handle.

"A mech much larger than I am, larger than even Atl," Wing replied promptly, his whole frame giving a little wiggle in the air. "With a heavier frame. But I don't think that's what you meant."

"He needs an interface partner that he can let go with," Vanguard translated smoothly. "Axe agrees with this?"

"Axe is the one who brought it up," Wing replied. "And he told me that neither of them objected to Axe interfacing with me while Dai was undergoing his penance. A larger mech, Knight or civilian, who agrees to help. Dai is a bit picky, Axe mentioned."

Vanguard wiggled his wings in understanding and thought of that. "There is a new Supplicant that might suit, if they get along. Shogun. He is slightly shorter than Axe, and fairly easy-going. Not unlike you in his enjoyment of interfacing."

Wing flicked his wings. "I haven't met him yet, but he sounds like a nice mech to get to know."

"I'm sure you'll enjoy each other's company," Vanguard chuckled and swung around to gradually weave towards the Citadel's main tower. "It would be advantageous if Dai Atlas and Axe work out with you, Atl and Shogun how to handle the bindings. They will be common for some time, I expect."

"I have no doubt of that," Wing replied. "I'll track Shogun down later." The smaller white jet looped lazily around Vanguard before settling back into position on the Sovereign's wing.

"Do you wish to view your Initiate's penance?" Vanguard asked as they circled in for a landing.

"I would," Wing answered. He transformed, touching down neatly and waiting for the Seeker to join him.

Once Vanguard settled, he offered Wing a data cable. "Use the time he is recovering well."

The white jet nodded as he accepted the cable, plugging it into his dataport. "I will."


	4. The Next Step

**Fandom**: Transformers G1  
**Author**: gatekat, ultrarodimus on LJ  
**Pairing**: Axe/Dai Atlas, Wing/Dai Atlas, Wing/Axe, Shogun/Stormcloud  
**Rating**: NC-17  
**Codes**: Slash, Sticky, Historical Setting, Knights of Light  
**Summary**:  
**Disclaimer**: The authors are only playing with their own twisted muses. Transformers belong to Hasbro. Fandom-side, check the inspirations page (gatekat-fics .livejournal 290 .html). We draw from a ton of amazing stories and authors you should read.

Kneeling to the Sword 04: The Next Step  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ =================== ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Repairing Dai Atlas in the aftermath of his penance only took a couple of joors to complete. His damage was almost exclusively from lack of energon and gradual strain rather than violence. Most was ruled for self-repair, once it was confirmed that there wasn't any damage that would heal badly. Despite that, it was severe enough for Hardwing to keep him in the medical bay for an extra orn to make sure everything would recover correctly. Axe was with Dai Atlas the whole time, while Wing was nowhere to be seen, something that puzzled the blue mech.

The Knight Initiate was finally released from the medical bay with strict orders to rest and warned of dire but unspecified consequences should Hardwing find out that Dai Atlas had been pushing himself too soon. With Axe hovering close enough that their plating touched, the large triple changer made his way to the quarters he shared with Wing.

The small white jet appeared before the door had even opened all the way, skidding out of his berthroom and launching himself right at Dai Atlas. The impact made the larger mech take a step back as Wing landed right on him and clung, much to the not-so-silent amusement of Axe as the large black and gold mech braced his mate.

"I think he needs some snuggle time, love," Axe teased, though he was serious enough.

Wing was already purring, clinging to Dai Atlas' armor like a cyber-barnacle. Wide golden optics lifted to meet red, the young white jet's field pulsing shyly against the larger blue mech's.

A huge white hand reached down to stroke Wing's helm. "Agreed, _if_ he'll let me walk."

It took a moment for the white mech to loosen his grip and drop off of Dai Atlas' frame, staying close to the larger mech. Axe chuckled at Wing as he shooed his mate into the berthroom.

"Let him get settled, and then you can pounce on him," Axe told Wing, reaching over to gently tweak the tip of a white audial flare.

Wing nodded, his field touching when he wasn't allowed to. Once more he was allowed to see what he would want in a mate as Dai Atlas allowed himself to lean on Axe, allowed his mate to settle him.

"Come on," Axe motioned for Wing to join them as the black mech settled at Dai Atlas' side.

The words had barely left Axe's vocalizer when Wing pounced, again landing on Dai Atlas. The blue mech shook his helm at the younger mech, settling Wing between himself and his mate. Wing purred as he snuggled between the two warm frames, resting his helm against blue armor.

"He's very tactile, this one," Axe chuckled, resting his helm on Dai Atlas' shoulder. ~The next time will be easier, I hope.~

"Very tactile," Dai Atlas agreed, looking down at the white helm resting on his chest and lifting his free hand to lightly stroke white armor. A slightly louder purr answered the touch. ~I hope so as well. That was... not easy to deal with.~

~Is that the worst hurt you have?~ Axe asked gently. He had an uneasy sense that it wasn't. The death of a charge, while terrible every time, he didn't think it could even touch on the pain of being betrayed by one and having to execute them.

The larger triple changer shivered faintly, triggering Wing to croon and press closer. ~No, it isn't,~ He admitted, tilting his helm to rest his against Axe's.

~Maybe we can try to tackle that one without the binding?~ Axe suggested hopefully.

Dai Atlas considered that. ~I think I would prefer that to facing it in a binding,~ he decided finally. He looked down as Wing shifted, nuzzling into blue armor, one wing flaring out to touch black plating.

Axe stretched a bit to kiss him lightly. ~I think I would too. I'm pretty sure they aren't going to allow either of us to not face all our losses and pain.~

~I do believe they are going to make us face every aspect of our pasts, one way or another.~ Dai Atlas returned the kiss, humming softly.

Axe hummed through a grunt of displeased agreement. ~What is it like, a binding? I only feel what slips through, the emotions. Not what it is _like_.~

~Aside from having your hands bound over your helm until they go completely numb? It's... very unnerving. It hurts, both physically and emotionally. It's like being thrown back into your memory and being made to face every facet of your past, dictated by the color of the binding. How that works, I'm not sure. I would bet that the Great Sword has something to do with it, since every time I have been bound, the binding has been looped over the hilt of a Great Sword,~ the blue mech answered after a moment of intense thought.

~Mystic things,~ Axe grumbled. ~I guess I need to get over that, don't I?~ He actually chuckled.

~I get the distinct impression that we're going to run into quite a bit of what we would term 'mystic', so yes, I would think so,~ Dai Atlas agreed.

Axe hummed, then nuzzled his mate. ~Has Wing told you about the point of all this, for him? To see you _bonded_ to one of those swords?~

~He has mentioned bonding to a Great Sword several times... I have been wondering how one bonds to a blade, but I haven't yet asked,~ Dai Atlas replied, his gaze briefly dropping to the brackets on Wing's back, between his wings, where the young jet's own Great Sword usually rested.

~The things are sentient. Though he didn't say it outright, I have no doubt they gain that sentience by keeping a bit of each bearer's spark. He did say that they become more complex and opinionated as they bond to more mecha,~ Axe didn't hide that it disturbed him on more levels than he could name. ~We talked a lot while you were occupied.~

It took Dai Atlas several kliks to wrap his processor around the idea of a sentient sword. He'd suspected the weapons were special, having felt energies around Wing's several times, but he'd never thought the blade might have been alive. ~Sentient blades... Did he say how one actually _bonds_ to one?~

~No, and I didn't ask,~ Axe admitted. ~If it's a real spark bond like he implied the options are limited.~

~That is true.~ Dai Atlas chewed on that for a klik, one hand absently brushing over the Great Sword connection points on Wing's back and getting a deeper purr from the half-in-recharge white mech.

~When he's willing to talk instead of snuggle, maybe he'll tell you if you ask,~ Axe suggested. ~I have no doubt it's something of a secret, but you are an Initiate.~

Dai Atlas hummed softly. ~I will ask,~ he agreed. ~Right now, though, I wouldn't expect a coherent response from him.~ The blue mech looked down at Wing, chuckling very softly as he noted the expression of utter contentment on the jet's face.

~No, I don't expect he would,~ Axe chuckled and snuggled in a bit more himself. ~I think you'll be less lonely than I am when I'm away. I bet he'd be happy to spend most nights right there.~

~Of that I have absolutely no doubt. He's like a cybercat ... eager for attention and melts when petted,~ Dai Atlas chuckled. One large finger ran over the red crest of Wing's helm, his smile widening when the helm pushed against his hand.

~It's adorable. If I hadn't seen him fight I would have sworn he was created to be a pet in mech form,~ Axe chuckled softly. ~He's adorable, snuggly, agreeable ... and a pit of a good interface.~

~Even cybercats have claws,~ Dai Atlas pointed out. He tilted his helm at his mate. ~That good, is he?~ Curious interest accompanied the words.

~It's true,~ Axe hummed at the image of Wing with feline features in the way of some noble pets, then shared the image with his mate. ~He is good, mostly because he's always eager and unbelievably tight. I'm sure you noticed his perpetual arousal?~

~It's rather hard not to notice, considering how much time I spend around him,~ Dai Atlas replied. He chuckled at the image, sending back a few choice images of what the mech would be able to do with a tail.

~Nice thoughts,~ Axe rumbled. ~I'm sure he'd find a stunning number of uses for one too.~

~Without a doubt, he would,~ Dai Atlas agreed with a snort. He contemplated the purring jet cuddled into his chest, still lightly stroking the red crest. ~I have noticed the permanent arousal in his field. He is good in the berth, hm?~

~Decidedly,~ Axe nuzzled his mate. ~Inclined to try him out?~

~The thought has crossed my processor.~ Dai Atlas returned the nuzzle. ~As long as no one has any objections...~

~I don't, I'd be stunned if he does,~ Axe kissed his mate and offered a few memories of what Wing felt like around his spike and just how much the young jet enjoyed it. ~He took some stretching to take me in, so he'll need you to take your time.~

Dai Atlas purred softly as he viewed the memories. ~From his reactions to you, I'd say the slower pace would be worth the results.~ Leaning over, he lightly kissed Axe's forehelm.

~It was,~ Axe shivered. ~I needed the release badly, a recharge in full oblivion, and taking the time to stretch him was well worth the added pleasure he offered for it.~

~Something to look into later.~ Dai Atlas shifted slightly, running one palm over Axe's black armor. ~After I get my strength back. And after I've had some mate-time with you.~ A purr threaded through the words.

~You'll have many nights alone with him to explore the options,~ Axe agreed, forcing his arousal down our of respect for both his mate's condition and the mech recharging on top of Dai Atlas.

~It promises to be interesting.~ Dai Atlas settled back, feeling recharge sneaking up on him. He was still recovering from the lengthy binding, and tired quickly. Shifting slightly to get comfortable, without dislodging the jet draped over his chestplate, Dai Atlas wrapped an arm around his mate, draping the other over Wing, and let recharge claim him.

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

Three orns after Dai Atlas was released from he medical bay Axe was back at work among the supplicants. He could feel that most were happy to see him, but not because it lessened their work - he knew it didn't. If he was back with them, his mate was recovered enough to be without him, and that was welcome news all around.

Axe nodded greetings to some of the other supplicants as he worked, returning a friendly greeting from Dart. It had been many orns since the last time Axe had been this relaxed while going about his daily chores. With his mate finally finished his penance and resting, Axe's temper had settled considerably.

He paused to glance up at one of the other supplicants, hovering next to one of the towers in a rather odd position to repaint storm damage, before getting back to his own task of polishing a courtyard stature of the founder of the Order.

He heard Atl walk up well before the grounder spoke, and made a personal note to himself that the Knight was now among those he knew.

"It is good to see you out and about again, Axe," Atl said with an honest smile.

"It's good to be out and about again, without having to worry about potentially biting someone's helm off," Axe replied, looking at the red mech and returning the smile.

"I thought it might be good to teach you to meditate," Atl offered. "This will not be the last time your mate is in such a condition."

Axe tilted his helm as he regarded the smaller mech. "It's as good a time to learn as any, I think... Dai is resting and fairly relaxed, and Wing is with him." The white jet had taken to curling up on Dai Atlas' chest at every opportunity, and the larger mech didn't mind at all.

"Still plastered to his plating like some kind of cybercat barnacle?" Atl laughed, knowing his friend well. "Come on then, I've cleared it with Dart."

"He curls up on Dai's chest at every opportunity, purring whether he's being touched or not," Axe agreed. "I have some choice image captures of Wing turning into a white puddle when his wings are petted." He detoured to put the supplies he'd been using away, following Atl.

"Oh I'm sure of that," Atl grinned at the giant beside him as they entered the tower that Atl lived in. "Shameless as he is though, all they're good for is cooing over how cute he is."

"Both Dai and myself agree that he is cute," Axe chuckled. "He's one pit of an interface, too. But I'm sure you already know that."

"Yes," Atl chuckled softly and palmed open his door. "There aren't many here who don't. Though I bet it was more intense for you than most, given the size difference."

"It was very intense," the black and gold triple changer agreed. He followed Atl inside, glancing around at the now-familiar decor before returning his attention to the smaller grounder.

"I'd like to show you a binding, but one that isn't painful for you," Atl looked up at blue optics.

The larger mech regarded Atl for a moment, then nodded slowly. "I have been wondering about the experience... Dai tried to explain it, but he could not quite find the words."

"No one ever does," Atl said simply as he turned, taking his Great Sword from the brackets on his back. "I don't think it can be explained. Would you get the lilac cord from the cabinet?" He set the long blade vertically in a set of brackets he could barely reach. "Axe, this is Guardian of Honor."

Axe moved over to the cabinet, taking a moment to find the cord in the named color. Cord in hand, he walked over to Atl, his blue gaze moving to the Great Sword. "Guardian of Honor." He extended his field slowly, brushing tentatively against the Great Sword. "Wing told me about the Great Swords..."

"Then you know it is semi-sentient," Atl said with a nod of approval, feeling Guardian of Honor respond to the greeting with a flicker of acceptance. "It will guide you during the binding if you allow it."

"I am aware of that, yes." The larger mech managed to hide any signs he found the Great Swords at all disturbing. Then he caught the last comment. "So they _do_ influence the binding."

"Yes," Atl nodded. "True Masters can undergo a binding without the assistance of a Great Sword, but most of us can't. The Great Sword is what differentiates a binding from meditation."

"Hm." Axe eyed the Great Sword for a moment, then handed Atl the spool of cord. Steeling himself, the black and gold mech held out his arms, wrists close together, and watched with a detached sort of interest as Atl wrapped the cord around his wrists in an intricate pattern that seemed at least as much decorative as functional.

When it was done Atl put a loop near Axe's thumb. "Pull this and it will free you if it's too much. I will be here the entire time as well."

Axe nodded, looking at the loop. "If I have to, I will use it. But only if I have to."

Stepping closer to the Great Sword, Axe hooked the binding over the hilt, as he had seen Wing do for Dai Atlas the first time the blue mech had undergone a binding. Venting heavily, Axe slowly sank to his knees. In the back of his processor he noted that the height was just enough lower that he could actually kneel, rather than having his full weight on his wrists and shoulders. It would still become uncomfortable in time, but not nearly to the extent it had been for his mate.

A gentle but strong hand and field touched the center of his back. "Simply relax and allow your processors to contemplate what comes," Atl suggested.

Axe nodded once, venting heavily before turning off his optics and trying to relax. It took him most of a breem to settle down, though he eventually managed to relax enough to feel Guardian of Honor pulsing against his field. He permitted his processors to go where they wanted, or where they were guided, and found himself contemplating his bond.

He wasn't sure what he had expected, but that wasn't it. There was a dull throb of old pain, from the loss of his first bond and what it had felt like when the bond had broken. So too there were dull throbs of the losses of lesser loves over his long existence. Central to his experience was his love for Dai Atlas. The fire between them that warmed, burned and protected in turn.

The black and gold triple changer examined that love, that fire, contemplating it from all angles. It burned as bright and as hot now as it had the orn they had bonded. Axe contemplated that first overcharged night of pleasure that he had initiated had eventually triggered Dai Atlas to pursue him. How that love had built up, the courtship between himself and the larger mech who was now his mate despite the risk they knew would eventually end in one losing the other. Distantly, he was aware that black plating slicked down with nervous tension was relaxing, puffing out slightly.

He had always known, just as Dai Atlas did, that battle would one orn shatter this bond, just as it already had twice for Dai Atlas and once for Axe. It was a pain that never left, but both accepted that was the price for the pleasure and support while the bond lasted.

How long Axe spent in that state of contemplation, he wasn't sure. In some ways it felt like it had only been a moment, in other ways it felt like forever.

As he finally became aware of the outside world again, the first thing he noticed was the pulse of Guardian of Honor's field against his own, then it gently drawn into the Great Sword once more. Right on its heels came the pain from his hands and forearms.

The brush of Atl's field appeared a sparkbeat later with the warmth of a hand held just a breath away from his back plating. "Are you ready?" his voice was gentle and ... proud.

Axe managed a nod, his optic shutters opening as the blue optics underneath warmed up. It took a nanoklik or two for his optics to focus. When his hands were released from the binding, Axe almost fell over backward before catching his balance with the help of Atl's support. The Knight knew what to expect.

Without a word Atl helped Axe to the berth and laid him down before settling next to him to rub one hand.

Axe gazed up at the ceiling for a long moment, slowly flexing his other hand to try and get the feeling back into it. A tingling sensation crawled slowly up his arm as the power and energon flows began pushing their way back into cold metal.

"Lilac..." the black and gold mech rasped after a moment, his voice rougher than usual. "It stands for love, doesn't it?"

"Yes," Atl smiled at him with another flare of pride. "It does. I wanted your first binding to be a good one."

"It was nothing like I had anticipated," Axe admitted, slowly flexing the hand Atl was rubbing. "And I see what Wing meant when he told me that some bindings do leave a mech feeling good."

"I hope your mate can draw from this as well," Atl moved his attention to the other hand. "I can tell you that even the more painful colors lose their sting once the hurt has been dealt with. Pink will always be a brutal experience, but all the others have many positive aspects to them."

"Dai and myself might not be able to see the more positive aspects until we've dealt with the pain," Axe pointed out. "As old as we are, there is a lot of hurt in our past. Getting through all of it will not be quick. Or easy."

"No, it will not," Atl agreed. "Even the lesser hurts that relative youngsters such as myself and Wing do not settle easily. It is a goal to keep in mind, however. Both bindings and life will improve as you work through your hurts."

The black giant chewed on that, nodding slowly. Turning his helm, Axe looked over to Guardian of Honor, watching the gem set into its hilt glitter back at him. "Wing explained to me what the Great Swords are... But he never said anything about how a mech bonds to one."

"That won't be explained to any mecha until it is time to bond," Atl said gently but firmly. "It is a secret of the Order."

"That would explain why Wing didn't say anything. But I would bet it involves the spark." Blue optics slid from the Great Sword to Atl.

Atl hummed neutrally, refusing to confirm or deny. "You will learn when it is time," he insisted.

"First someone has to choose me as an Initiate," Axe pointed out.

"You have doubts that someone will choose you?" Atl cocked his helm at the larger mech, a slightly teasing smile tweaking at his mouth plates.

"There are three mechs, yourself included, who seem to have their optic on me. But so far no one has given any indication they might choose me," Axe responded.

A flicker of gentle _understanding-support_ crossed their fields from Atl. "What happened with your mate is extremely unusual among Knights, though very much Wing's way. There has never been a question among us that you would both be trained, only who would do the training. We are currently feeling you out, trying to work out who would be best to train you. The relationship between an Initiate and their Daoshi, the Knight who trains them, is much longer and more intimate than that between creator and creation, or even most unbonded mates. For most Knights it the strongest bond they develop."

"I've seen it, with Dai and Wing." Axe nodded slowly. "I think I would work well with either you or Dart. Blueflash I'm not struck on. But that's just my opinion."

Atl nodded. "It will definitely feature into the choice, ours and yours. It is in everyone's best interest that both sides are convinced it is the best choice."

Axe hummed softly, digesting that. Slowly, he levered himself up into a sitting position, flexing his hands as the power flow fully resumed, the gray tint his plating had taken on vanishing back into a healthy obsidian.

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

Three nights after Axe had once more returned to the supplicant lodging Dai Atlas found himself in the now-familiar arrangement of laying on his berth with Wing curled and purring on his chest. Between missing his mate and the little jet's constant arousal, it was getting to him. He _missed_ overloading with a lover. He couldn't keep his processors from returning to the memory files his mate had shared of the white jet around Axe's spike, how eager and slick and _tight_ he was.

It was enough to cause a shiver of desire to pass through his frame.

Feeling the shiver, Wing shifted and lifted his helm, blinking as gold optics warmed up. Uncurling, the young jet looked into red optics, flaring his audial fins slightly. Wing's field reached out to brush against his student's and caught the growing arousal there. "Dai?"

"Axe mentioned you might be agreeable, despite the size difference ... he shared a few files of what you did with him," he added by way of explanation.

Wing trilled, tilting his helm to one side. "He did, did he?" There was a purr in the young jet's voice. "Would you like to find out for yourself?" He wiggled slender wings teasingly.

"If you now believe it is possible," Dai Atlas said cautiously. "It will leave you even more sore than my mate did. It takes vorns of very regular activity, or medical reconstruction, for a mecha your size to become acclimated to one my size."

Wing smiled. "I would like to try. And the soreness would be worth it." He uncurled, stretching out on Dai Atlas' frame, kneading blue metal lightly. A bright flare of arousal wrapped around the white jet as large white hands moved over Wing to stroke his back and wings.

"Is Axe as big a spike as you've taken?" Dai Atlas asked as he caressed soft white armor.

"Yes, he is." Wing leaned into Dai Atlas' hands, lowering his helm to rub his cheek against the larger mech's. His own hands lightly explored the black chestplate he was sprawled over, fingertips darting along the edges of the plates. Behind him he heard an interface panel slid open and a spike begin to pressurize.

Shifting, Wing rubbed one leg against the spike pressurizing behind him, grinning brightly down at Dai Atlas. Catching hold of a large white hand, Wing nipped at the pads of the larger mech's fingers, glimmering golden optics meeting red.

"If you want my first load inside you, you're going to have to stop playing with me," Dai Atlas rumbled as his hips rolled into the contact with his spike.

"But it's _fun_," Wing chirped teasingly, reluctantly moving his leg away from the spike. Leaning down, he nipped lightly at Dai Atlas' lower lip, his valve cover sliding open.

"Yes, and enjoyable," Dai Atlas agreed before kissing the smaller mech's mouth. "But I have at least two breems of prep work to do on you before I can get inside without _hurting_ you."

With gentle but insistent hands the giant shifted and got Wing to settle on the berth with his aft in the air.

"You, however, came overload as often as you feel like it," Dai Atlas chuckled as a strong hand ran over Wing's aft to let a finger far larger than any normal mech's spike tease the jet's valve platelets. "Just try to save one for me."

Wing began purring deeper as he settling onto the berth, chestplate pressed against its surface. The jet looked back over his shoulder, wiggling his wings at Dai Atlas, watching with bright and eager gold optics. The touch on the platelets surrounding his valve entrance got a drawn-out "oooooooooooooooh" and a delighted shiver of the smaller mech's frame.

"If anything starts to hurt, or Primus forbid you feel something _tear_, you have to tell me immediately," Dai Atlas said seriously before teasing the tip of his finger against the valve entrance, testing just how tight Wing was to something as large as his finger.

Wing nodded and wiggled his wings in assent. "I will let you know," he replied. A moment later, a soft whine escaped as the white jet pushed back into the teasing finger, wanting more. He was given it, the slickness squeezing out around Dai Atlas' finger and the _pleasure-want more_ in Wing's field were enough to convince the giant it was safe.

All the way to the second knuckle, as deep as most mecha ever reached, and Dai Atlas paused again.

Wing let out a purring moan, the calipers of his valve cycling down on Dai Atlas' finger as the jet pushed back into the giant's hand. Gold optics gleamed over Wing's shoulder, the white mech letting out a whine of _need_.

Slowly Dai Atlas pulled his finger back half way, then pressed in again, going a bit further with each cycle until his fingertip stretched the lining at the very back of the valve and held there.

The small white jet rocked his hips into each slow penetration, field flaring and expressing quite clearly how much he was enjoying it. The touch at the very back of his valve sent him keening into overload, frame stiffening, charge darting over white armor and arcing between the edges of flared plates, the calipers of his valve clamping down on Dai Atlas' finger. It took a klik for Wing's frame to loosen, hot air gusting from his vents, purring so hard his plating rattled.

"My spike is four times that thick," Dai Atlas told him as he took advantage of the utterly relaxed state to try and work a second finger inside his lover. "And much longer."

A moan of pure anticipation answered that comment, Wing craning his neck to see past his own frame and admire the spike in question. A hot rush of _want_ flooded through his field at the thought of it inside him, the black and light blue base glistening with his lubricants that brought out the gold, red and white spirals.

"You'll have it," Dai Atlas promised as he applied a little more gentle pressure to press his two fingers further in. "Only when _I_ feel you are ready for it."

Wing shivered from helm to pedes, wings fluttering and wiggling, as the second finger slid into his valve, stretching it even more than Axe had. He tried to hold still, but his frame pushed back into those digits, letting out a soft mew of bliss. Lubricant leaked out around Dai Atlas' fingers, pooling on the berth between Wing's legs.

"That's good," Dai Atlas purred. His spike _ached_, but he knew he had work left to do. His own frame was shaking lightly as he worked his two fingers in and out, pressing just a little deeper each time and holding still until the valve lining relaxed, accepting the stretch.

Wing pressed into Dai Atlas' hand each time those fingers slid into his valve. He was already well past the ability to speak or make any kind of coherent sound. Dark hands kneaded the berth, white armor flaring to vent heat more quickly. His cooling fans were whirring loudly, engines purring. The valve calipers shifted restlessly, working the blue giant's fingers as they would a spike.

It seemed like a blissful eternity before the paired fingers pressed all the way in to stretch the back of Wing's valve once more and held still briefly, then wiggled against the thick knot of sensor nodes there.

Wing overloaded hard, his voice almost a shriek. His cockpit scraped against the berth surface, back arched, helm thrown back, fingertips striking sparks as he clawed at the berth. For a klik he held that pose, frame locked, wings shivering from bases to tips, before sinking back to the berth in a contented puddle. His armor was standing on end, the air shimmering over his frame from the heat of his systems.

He shuddered involuntarily as the thick fingers withdrew half way and then spread enough for a third finger to work its way in between them.

"You're only half way there," Dai Atlas rumbled, his field almost white hot in his arousal. "Don't check out on me now."

Wing huffed at the idea, flipping his wings. He had better stamina than that. A deep, throaty moan escaped him at the _fullness_ as the third finger slid in. The white jet's hips wiggled slightly as he leaned into the touch.

"Good," Dai Atlas rumbled as he began a much more complex stretching pattern with his fingers, alternating between spreading them, pressing them deeper, pulling out and twisting. He was careful not to go too deep to stretch the very back, wanting a few good overloads for his spike before Wing became unresponsive.

Slender white wings fluttered so hard the young jet looked like he was trying to take off like an organic bird did. Wing moaned and whined with bliss, optics flaring almost white but unseeing. What the blue triple changer was doing felt so very _good_.

A few more strokes and Dai Atlas pulled his fingers free.

The young jet whined a protest at the lack of contact, wings and pinions twitching, then looked back over his shoulder eagerly. Anticipation flowed through his field, gold optics watching every move Dai Atlas made as the giant spread Wing's lubricant along the entire impressive length of his spike, then lined the tip up with Wing's valve.

Two strong white hands closed around Wing's hips to brace the much smaller jet against the pressure of being penetrated by such a large object.

Wing shifted a bit, spreading his legs a bit wider and bracing himself. Under Dai Atlas' hands the compact frame was trembling with eagerness, plating vibrating as Wing again started purring. He wanted to feel that spike in his valve so very badly. His imaginings were not left disappointed as his valve was stretched further than he'd ever believed possible.

"Oh Primus," Dai Atlas gasped, trembling uncontrollably with the ornate tip of his spike the only part inside.

Wing let out a sharp cry, but the sound expressed only pleasure. The ache was minor, and easily overwhelmed by the rest of what Wing was feeling. Only the strong hands grasping his hips kept him from pressing back onto that spike, though the slight squirm of the rest of his frame made it clear he wanted to.

"Give me a klik," Dai Atlas gasped, every line of his frame strained to avoid overloading with that first squeeze around his spike tip. He pressed forward, driving his spike in deeper as quickly as he dared.

The white jet's whole frame trembled. It hurt. But nothing was torn or damaged, and the pain receded quickly, leaving only a dull ache that was quickly overwhelmed by the pleasure. Slender wings performed a complex wiggle before stretching out to their full span, tips quivering.

With only a quarter of his spike inside, Dai Atlas began to pull back, nearly keening in his efforts to retain control. "So _tight_."

Wing echoed the keen, the sound pure _want_. The white mech pressed his chestplate against the berth, digging his fingers into its surface, kneading absently. All his attention was on the sensations he was getting from his valve and the huge mech behind him as Dai Atlas pressed forward once more.

Half buried he paused again, gasping for air and for enough self control not to injure his lover with his first overload. As intense as this was, it also reminded him why he generally stuck to larger mecha.

"Primus give me strength," Dai Atlas whispered as he drew back and drove forward again with a bellow that was both exquisite pleasure and near-pain. Hot transfluid rushed into Wing's valve, lighting up every sensor not already maxed as it filled what little space was left, compressing against the node clusters at the back of the valve and pressing even harder as Dai Atlas drew back and slammed forward again.

The shriek of overload Wing let out almost shorted out his vocalizer. His whole body bucked, hips still being held in place by the giant blue triple changer. Charge sizzled over his plating, leaping off onto his lover, dancing between the tips of puffed-out armor plates. This time Dai Atlas provided no relief as his own much more potent charge snapped back into Wing.

Despite the intensity, Dai Atlas retained enough control not to sheath himself fully, the bucking of his hips moving only a quarter of his spike in and out as he continued right through his overload to drive himself into another.

Wing's fingers were leaving grooves in the surface of the berth as he fought to remain still, wanting to press back into each thrust. His optics were almost white, blind with ecstasy, mouth open in a silent cry. His field seethed with pleasure. Dai Atlas' charge raced through Wing's sensor net, driving the young jet's charge even higher. Static electricity cracked over his plating and that of his lover.

It wasn't even half a klik before Dai Atlas all but screamed another overload, this time the tip of his spike pressed hard against the end of Wing's valve when the first rush of transfluid exploded into the incredibly tight space.

Wing's whole body stiffened and locked up as Dai Atlas' overload triggered the white jet's fourth, mouth opening in a silent screech of pure pleasure. His vocorder shorted out from the excess charge even before any sound actually escaped. Lubricant and transfluid leaked out around the blue triple changer's spike, adding to the puddle on the berth and the wet, shining streaks running down the small jet's thighs.

Dai Atlas leaned forward until his helm rested on the berth and he completely covered Wing. It radically changed the angle, though the fit was so tight it was hard to tell the difference as he began to thrust in earnest, grunting each time he tried to hilt himself and was stopped by the end of the valve he was driving into.

Wing pressed his back against Dai Atlas' chestplate, wings wiggling against black metal, his front half writhing against the larger mech while powerful white hands held his hips still. Tilting his own helm, he nipped, licked, and kissed at anything he could reach. He'd never felt this full, or a fifth overload rushing up to claim him so quickly. He could feel it crackling in Dai Atlas' systems as well, though the larger mech seemed to be focused solely on the rhythmic thrust and withdraw of his hips.

Wing braced himself with trembling arms, pressing up into Dai Atlas' chestplate, tilting his helm and stretching a bit to gain access to the giant triple changer's jaw and neck. Hot air blasted from Wing's vents in time with each thrust, a purr by now the only sound he could make. His plating vibrated against blue metal, nacelles revving. The young white jet was almost mindless with pleasure.

A few more grunting thrusts and Dai Atlas cried out, a low, rumbling growl of pleasure taken almost to pain as he pumped more hot transfluid into Wing, filling the small jet to bursting.

Transfluid leaked out around Dai Atlas' spike in copious amounts, creating a large silvery puddle on the berth. Wing's vocalizer let out a high whistle as the jet reached a fifth overload, sinking down onto the berth, trying to catch his breath. His purr never let up, nacelles screaming briefly before spooling slowly down to a high idle. White armor stood on end, trying to vent the heat that had built up underneath.

"More?" Dai Atlas conveyed more through his field than his voice, his hips still moving as he sought another high.

It took a moment for the jet to respond, and when he did it was with the calipers of his valve rippling suggestively along Dai Atlas' spike as best they could. Wing squirmed a bit, arching his back to press his own back and quivering wings against the larger chestplate over him.

A rumble vibrated down from Dai Atlas and he picked up the speed and strength of his thrusts. Never hard enough to rupture the lining, but taking it as far as possible without having a medic needed.

Wing's nacelles revved high, vibrating against Dai Atlas' plating. The white jet rubbed shamelessly against the larger mech's frame, leaving streaks of white paint behind and not caring in the least. Tilting his helm, he followed the line of Dai Atlas' neck to his jaw, nipping at the triple changer's chin. He wouldn't be walking right for orns, and he couldn't begin to care. This was an unbelievable experience every mecha should have at least once.

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

Axe groaned in the kind of pleasure one could only take from a shower when the orn had been a dirty one. Despite looking forward to being _clean_ again, he was looking forward to cornering the two newest arrivals with his mate. Despite what Atl had said, what the grounder _hadn't_ said had been crystal clear; he didn't dare take Axe as his Initiate until Dai Atlas had someone to spike hard when the bad bindings ran too long. That had spurred them both to see how well they connected with one of the few mecha in the Citadel that Dai Atlas wouldn't have to be careful with.

Shogun was an older mech, younger than Axe but not by much, a red Altihexian slightly shorter than Axe was, though the size difference was only apparent when the two were standing fairly close together. He wasn't military, but he had some sort of official training, most likely city guard or police. The red mech could usually be found humming to himself as he went through his chores, returning the greetings from other mechs, and possessed a ready smile. A few other mechs had playfully flirted with him, and he flirted right back, much to the amusement of his companion, a large Praxian grounder named Stormcloud.

The Praxian had arrived at the Citadel with Shogun; the flier had carried him the whole way and had promptly collapsed into exhausted recharge at the Citadel gates. Stormcloud made his name all honor; his armor was all shades of gray from pale smoke to deep charcoal, shading to black at his shins, forearms, and the tips of his sensor wings. He looked like a looming thundercloud, only a metallic gold chevron and green optics standing out against the grays. Despite the somewhat ominous color scheme, Stormcloud was as open and friendly as the mech he had arrived with.

Lovers, arguably long-time mates, but not bonded and far more relaxed about sharing than the military had made Dai Atlas and Axe. It was a good start, enough for Axe to arrange for his mate to visit and meet the pair.

Clean, dry and presentable, Axe made his way to the common room and swept it with his optics for the couple.

The Altihexian was easy to spot; his red armor, his size, and the elaborate silver crest on his helm made him quite visible. He was leaning back in his chair, a half-empty cube of energon on the table in front of him. Stormcloud was sitting next to him, leaning on the table, one two-panel sensor wing twitching slightly behind him. Both looked up as Axe arrived.

The black mech smiled at them and walked over. "Mind if we join you?"

"Certainly," the red mech replied, inclining his helm in a friendly greeting. Warm orange optics watched the slightly larger mech while Stormcloud smiled at him.

"We don't mind at all," the gray Praxian agreed. "Company is always welcome."

"Good," Axe rolled into a chair, feeling more relaxed than usual in the company of mecha he could actually look in the optics. "My mate plans to join us as soon as his Daoshi cuts him loose."

"He's welcome to join us, too," Stormcloud replied. "I look forward to meeting him."

Shogun stretched his downward-sloping wings, wiggling one to get a bit of debris out of a joint and sighing with relief when it dropped out. "I too look forward to it. Not many mecha our size here... It's nice to be around mechs our size. I don't feel like I might damage someone by accident."

"I know the feeling," Axe agreed with a stretch. "It's _very_ different from what we're used to. Are either of you angling to become a Knight, or are you here for sanctuary?"

"I wouldn't mind becoming a Knight," Shogun answered. "I was a court officer in Altihex; I saw far too many abuse cases, especially far too many concerning sparklings and younglings. Enough was finally enough. I had to get out."

"He's also had to duck a few very unsubtle and pointed attempts to recruit him into the military, so we figured it best to find someplace well out of the way," the Praxian added.

The red mech snorted. "One thing you learn after millennia of being a cop is how to disappear. Nova's henchmechs can chase shadows from Altihex to the next star system."

"You don't know the half of it, Shogun," Dai Atlas said as he joined the table. "You truly don't. This seems to be a gathering place for folks who crossed him, or don't want to."

"I'd rather keep out of his sights. I saw enough while I was just a cop." Shogun nodded to the larger blue mech. "I never met him, he never met me, and that's the way I like it."

"Smartest move you ever made," Dai Atlas nodded.

"And where Shogun goes, I go," Stormcloud added, reaching over to take the red mech's hand.

"Any reason you two haven't bonded yet?" Axe smiled indulgently at the pair.

"We just never got around to it." Stormcloud fluttered his sensor wings slightly.

"Weird hours mostly drove the thought right out of our processors," Shogun admitted. "We will bond. Eventually." He tilted his helm at Axe. "How long have you two been bonded?"

"A long time," Axe chuckled.

"Hundred and twenty vorns after Nova became Prime," Dai Atlas added. "It was worth everything too, every time."

Axe hummed softly. "Yes, it's worth everything it brings."

Stormcloud smiled. "Good to know." The sidelong glance he gave his own mate hinted at interesting times in the future, gaining a huff from the red mech's vents. Then the Praxian turned his attention to the older mechs sitting with them. "So you're training to become a Knight, Dai Atlas?"

"For three vorns now," the giant nodded. "It is ... different."

"That might have been because of Wing," Axe snickered. "Both of mine seem a _lot_ saner."

Shogun tilted his helm to the side slightly, clearly curious. "Wing is the mech training you?"

"Yes," Dai Atlas returned a curious look. "He's quite the instinctive mech."

"Read: Acts before thinking, won't back down from it and can't get enough cuddling," Axe smirked at his mate.

"No complaining about _that_ until he pushes you out of the berth," Dai Atlas huffed.

Stormcloud laughed. "There's a story there, I can tell."

Axe snorted. "Only real story involves a cuddly mech and my having to stay here thirty-one orns out of thirty-two. He makes himself scarce when I can actually stay."

Shogun grinned. "Sounds like quite an interesting mech to learn from. He's that small white mech I've seen around you here and there?"

"Yes, that's likely Wing," Dai Atlas nodded. "He's not actually that small, just compared to me," he chuckled.

"I think most mechs look small compared to you." Stormcloud's warm smile made the statement a gentle tease.

Shogun's orange optics fixed on Axe. "Are you going to enter Knight training as well?"

"Yes, as soon as a couple things get settled," Axe turned serious. "There are parts of training that are very intense, to the point that for now, the other needs some help to stay level."

"Before Atl will train him, I need a casual berthmate, or two, that I don't have to be all that careful with," Dai Atlas spelled it out. "An orn or two binding they'll let the other watch. Much longer than that, or more serious, and it is no longer an option. As you've noticed, there aren't many mecha here I don't have to be _careful_ with."

"Because most mechs here are too small." Shogun nodded, regarding the larger blue mech.

"Yes," Dai Atlas nodded. "As intense as it can be with that much of a size difference, it's not a good mix when what I need is to let go. I've never injured a lover before and I don't intend to start now."

Shogun and Stormcloud exchanged glances, the red mech lifting an optic rim. The gray mech tilted his helm slightly, looking the other couple over for a moment before nodding. Shogun smiled briefly, returning his attention to Dai Atlas. "We've never turned down an offered interface, either one of us separately or with both of us."

"It's a good start," Axe purred. "Ever been with a mech just trying to forget for the night?"

Stormcloud pointed at Shogun. "Cop."

The red mech snorted. "Many times, especially with fellow officers and a few beat cops."

Axe and Dai Atlas both relaxed at that. "It's likely to be much the same then," Dai Atlas said. "And I wouldn't mind having you both there."

Both of the pair smiled at him. Shogun sent Dai Atlas a quick databurst. "Those are our personal comm frequencies; you can contact us whenever you need to. We'll make arrangements with Dart so we'll be available when needed."

"He's expecting it," Dai Atlas assured them. "He'll also be notified when Axe is starting something I might need the help with. Anything that distracting will require coordination between at least Wing, Atl and Dart. If I need your help, I'll be in no condition to train either."

"I think you were here when I was so out of sorts," Axe tried to remember exactly when the pair had arrived.

"I was," Stormcloud replied. "We'd just arrived, and he was in the medical bay. He'd carried me the whole way here, without stopping to rest until we found this place; I'm a grounder, not a flier." He flared shorter-than-usual sensor wings for emphasis. "He was so burned out he had to spend most of a decaorn in the medbay. I remember seeing you, Axe, and wondering why you were so twitchy."

"If you bond before you're Knights, you'll have a solid understanding of why," Axe said grimly. "I'm not sure I can explain it if you don't know what you get across the bond. We've held it open for so long neither of us can close it well anymore."

"We'll keep that in mind." Shogun nodded, finishing the last of his cube.

"Most definitely something to keep in mind," Stormcloud agreed, the tip of a sensor wing brushing a red jet wing.

"So you were a cop," Dai Atlas inclined his helm at Shogun. "What was your function?" he looked at Stormcloud.

"I was an artist," the gray mech replied. "I did commission work, some armor-painting, and commission patterns for mechs who liked to show off. My creators were less than thrilled, to put it mildly."

"You got a kick out of scandalizing your creators," Shogun pointed out with a chuckle.

"Any work I might have seen?" Dai Atlas was suddenly very interested as he tried to recall as many of the armor artists as he'd heard about.

"I've worked on a few military mecha." Stormcloud sent the large blue mech a databurst containing images of some of his work. Everything from delicate patterns for courting and bonding to intricate tribal-ish styles designed to make fighting mechs look more fierce and formidable. "Some in Praxus, and others when I moved to Altihex to get away from the constant disapproval raining down on me from my creators."

Dai Atlas hummed, then shared them with Axe, whose optics brightened. "You did Ironhide and Chromia?"

"That was my work, yes." Stormcloud nodded, puffing up slightly with modest pride.

"You did well being an artist," Dai Atlas said with all the definitive nature of a long-time commanding officer. "Your creators should be proud of you."

"Yeah," Axe nodded his agreement. "Anyone with _that_ resume ... you could name your price anywhere there are military stationed."

Stormcloud snorted. "You'd think they'd be proud. My creators are fairly wealthy merchants who enjoy rubbing elbows with the upper crust of Praxus. They were shocked and horrified that I went off to do something completely different. And the horrified howling when I got involved with Shogun here could be heard all the way from Praxus to Altihex without needing a comm."

"His creators are mechs I am _glad_ I never met," Shogun interjected. "I've heard the lectures they commed to give him."

"I think I will never understand some mecha," Axe shook his helm. "We were thrilled for every creation who was happy, be it in their function, for a lover or hobby."

"My creators had ambitions of handing me off in an arranged bonding to try and get themselves into the nobility." The gray Praxian snorted in disgust. "To hear them, you'd think that getting involved with Shogun equated with selling my spark to Unicron or something."

Dai Atlas cycled his optics. "They wanted to..." he groaned. "Primus give me patience for delusional mecha. It's been a while, but I _know_ it doesn't work like that. It might get _you_ in, but not them."

"Try telling them that." Stormcloud shook his helm. "I am away from them, away from their power plays and schemes, and I am my own mech. I think they _finally_ got around to disowning me completely. Took them long enough."

"If you're happy with what you are, it's a good thing," Dai Atlas smiled at the pair.

"Far happier than I would have been if I hadn't escaped," Stormcloud agreed, scooting his chair over to lean against Shogun's shoulder.

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

Several orns had passed since Atl had chosen Axe as his Initiate, to train as a Knight of Light. Dai Atlas, upon finding out, had pointed out that he had been told that once both he and his mate were Initiates, they would be permitted to live together, and Aurora had had to agree. The quarters Wing and Dai Atlas inhabited were not large enough for four mechs, two of them being considerably larger than the others, and Atl insisted on having his own berthroom. It had taken several orns to overhaul two sets of existing quarters into one larger set, with Dai Atlas and Axe having a berthroom larger than the entire quarters of most full Knights, while Wing and Atl had their own separate berthrooms and all four shared a common room. The most debate had involved the washrack; whether to have one that managed to accommodate all four very differently sized mecha, including one grounder, or to build two, one for the giants and one for Wing and Atl. In the end it was agreed on that one room could be used, with multiple racks.

Axe had promptly dragged his unresisting mate into their room and pointedly shut the door behind them, while Wing and Atl remained in the main living area.

"I hope those walls are soundproof," Wing commented absently, digging a cube of jet high-grade from his stash and offering Atl a cube of grounder high-grade.

"Oh, they are," Atl chuckled, having been the one to oversee the remodeling with Axe. "As are yours." He took a small sip and sighed in pleasure. "You always keep the best high grade my friend."

"Good to know." Wing grinned cheekily. "When I can get my hands on the good stuff, I keep a stash for later. Both jet- and grounder-grade. This seemed like a good time to bring some out."

"It does mark one of the most important moments in a Knight's existence," Atl agreed. "Bonding to a Great Sword, becoming a Daoshi for the first time, seeing your Initiate become a Knight, seeing them become a Daoshi."

"You're going to have an interesting time working with Axe; he's as interesting a character as his mate is," Wing pointed out. "Prying them apart long enough to drill katas into their processors is going to be interesting."

"Less difficult than you might expect," Atl smiled and sipped his cube. "They are both successful military; heavily pre-programmed for discipline and compliance to orders. Everything you aren't," he gave a teasing grin for his friend. "Though I agree, they will be an interesting pair to train. Far less focus on katas and far more on bindings than our own training, I expect."

The white jet chuckled, making no attempt to deny that he was not the most rule-abiding mech in the Citadel, or the most obedient at times. "They are probably going to spend a good chunk of their time in bindings; they have a lot to work through." He took a sip of his high-grade. "As long as they don't have to go through it at the same time."

Atl cycled his optics at the very idea. "I think we need to do what's required to avoid that," he pointed out. "The feedback could hinder things, or worse, lock them into a cross-mech feedback loop. It's bad enough when just one in a binding."

Wing nodded. "You spent as much time around Axe as I did when Dai was undergoing his first penance binding; he was a bit of a handful then. Dai is going to be even more of a handful when Axe undergoes his first traumatic binding."

"Much more," Atl agreed. "Axe has told me that he's never suffered a flashback. We already know that Dai Atlas has. I'm fairly sure that your Initiate isn't as easy to calm as mine either."

"I think getting him to calm down that time required a stun bolt. I was too busy lying on the floor in a heap, barely able to move, at the time," Wing pointed out. "Aside from that, I've never really seen him worked up."

"You've never seen him when his bonded is in agony either," Atl shrugged slightly. "As open as those two still keep their bond I expect he'll take it worse than Axe. Though I understand that you were caught off guard when he dropped you."

"I don't doubt it. And yes, Dai caught me by surprise. One of the few times I was not fast enough to get out of the way." A white wing twitched. "Though Dai and Axe have made arrangements for when Axe has to undergo his first binding penances."

"Shogun and Stormcloud," Atl nodded, content to simply relax after the basics of moving in. "I'm glad they have that option. Dai Atlas needs someone big and tough enough to take him letting go. I rather hope Axe take advantage of them as well. Comfort by interfacing seems to be a language all of them understand."

"It would be a good idea, for them to get used to each other before the next time Axe undergoes a binding." Wing shifted on the couch, sprawling over it and taking up more room than a mech of his size should be capable of occupying.

Atl chuckled at his friend. "I expect they're taking care of that. I have no doubt those two have things planned out that we'd never dream of."

"More than likely," the smaller mech agreed. He tilted his helm at Atl. "Would you mind if I used that hot oil bath in your quarters every once in a while?"

"Not at all," he grinned, knowing that question was coming the moment Wing figured out he had one. "It's there to relax in."

Wing chirred. "I'll try not to interrupt you if you're in there after a bad orn... I know what your temper can be like."

Golden optics rolled before Atl took another sip. "You mean the opposite of your interface drive?" he teased back.

Wing snorted at that, flipping a wing at the larger grounder. About to say something, he tilted his helm to one side, audial fins flaring out. "Feel that?"

Atl stilled completely for a long moment before laughing as a stronger rumble passed through the room. "So the soundproofing isn't perfect. At least I can recharge through that."

"Better than the alternative," Wing replied, reaching for his cube and taking a drink.

"Much better than your screams and screeching," Atl snickered. "Just remember to close the doors when you have company." He paused for a sip.

"You never seemed to mind my 'screams and screeching' when it's you in my berth," Wing huffed.

"I'm never trying to recharge through that," Atl smirked. "So what are you going to do for warmth now that Axe has reclaimed your Initiate?"

"Heated berth and a pillow to curl around," the jet replied with a chuckle. "It's the petting I'll miss." He lazily chucked his empty cube at Atl's helm, huffing when the red mech ducked.

"Aww, poor Wing," he laughed easily and finished his cube. "No more nightly dose of wing-petting. How will you ever recharge?"

"Maybe I'll pester you for a joor or so of wing-petting before recharge," the white jet mock-threatened, flicking the appendages in question at his friend. "I'll manage."

"You better come with something to trade," Atl grinned with easy teasing. "I'm going to be a busy mecha, you know."

"I'll keep that in mind." Wing grinned over at him. "And I'm going to be just as busy. Both of us have Initiates to train."

"You're just higher maintenance than I am," Atl chuckled and stretched before standing. "Though speaking of recharge, I'm going for a soak and to catch some."

Getting to his pedes, Wing stretched, ambling over to retrieve the empty cube he'd thrown earlier and bounce it off the back of Atl's helm before disposing of it. "I'm going to head for recharge, too. Then, in the morning we'll see if we need to break out the towing cables and pry-bars to get those two out of their berth."

Atl laughed easily and deeply. "All we need to do is master Hardwing's bark. They'll move. Might not be self-aware, but they'll move."

Wing laughed. "That would be something to see." The white jet wandered toward his berthroom. "Until we master that particular skill, we'll have to find some other way to get their large afts out of the berth for their training."

"I'm sure we'll manage," Atl grinned at his friend before closing the door to his berthroom behind him and heading for the small hot oil bath he had spent much of his savings on vorns ago.

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

"Ready to see the damage?" Atl glanced at Wing as the jet came out of his berthroom. As expected, the white jet was all but a bouncing ball of pure energy. Atl liked mornings well enough, but he had _nothing_ like Wing's apparent built-in reaction to pre-dawn.

The younger jet actually did bounce over to his friend. "Yup! Let's see what lengths we're going to have to go to in order to get them up and moving."

With a bemused shake of his helm Atl walked up to their Initiate's door and palmed it open. It was locked, but all that meant was that those of higher rank were notified that they were breaching a privacy lock before it opened.

Atl wrinkled his nose at the rush of slightly stale, heavily ionized air rushing out at them, thick with the scent of lubricant and transfluid. "They had fun."

"They certainly did." Wing hovered, eying the black streaks in Dai Atlas' blue finish, and the blue, gold, and red streaks standing out vividly against Axe's dark armor. "And both of them are still out cold."

"Wing, you like morning petting _entirely_ too much," Dai Atlas grumbled, his optics off and unmoving. "Com'ere then," he shifted an arm in a familiar offer to let the white jet join him and be petted.

"While I would love to, it's time for you two to get your afts out of bed and get ready for the day," the white jet chirped in response. "Don't make us figure out other ways to get you moving."

An inarticulate grumble escaped the giant, but he powered on his optics and nudged his mate. "Time to move."

The grumble from the black mech might have been rude had it been even halfway intelligible. Axe swatted at Dai Atlas' hand, rolling over and trying to go back into recharge.

"Axe! You have to get up!" Wing called from where he hovered.

"Is he always like this?" Atl asked thoughtfully from the doorway.

"He hates mornings as much as the chipper one there loves them," Dai Atlas said as he shifted to get his pedes on the floor. Atl hummed as Dai Atlas grabbed his mate's shoulder with a long, long familiarity with dragging the reluctant mech out of the berth.

This time the sound Axe made was definitely a growl. The black mech made some valiant attempts to avoid being dragged to his pedes, but was hauled off the berth anyway. Axe shook himself, black armor fluffing up before resettling, grumbling under his breath.

Wing settled beside Atl, poking the red mech with one wing. "You are going to have fun with that one."

Atl cocked his helm slightly and gave his Initiate a measured looked. "Axe. What joors do you _like_ to recharge?"

"Pre-dawn to noon, for preference." Axe yawned, blinking owlishly and trying to shake the cobwebs from his processor. The black mech muttered something to himself, leaning on Dai Atlas' shoulder.

"Night turbo-owl," Wing commented, tilting his helm slightly.

Atl nodded. "Dai Atlas, does he _function_ better on that shift?"

"Much," the giant nodded, not daring to hope this was going where it sounded like. His wings gave him away to Wing however.

"Then let him recharge," Atl decided. "I'll be back to collect him at noon."

Axe heaved a massive sigh, giving Atl a grateful look before crawling back onto the berth and collapsing across it. He was deep in recharge in a few nanokliks.

Wing chirred softly, smiling up at Dai Atlas before waving for the larger mech to follow him. "We Knights can tailor our training schedules to the needs of our Initiates... It makes it much easier for everyone. Now let's get you cleaned up and get our orn started."


	5. Invited Back

**Fandom**: Transformers G1  
**Author**: gatekat, ultrarodimus on LJ  
**Pairing**: Axe/Dai Atlas  
**Rating**: PG-13  
**Codes**: Slash, Historical Setting, Knights of Light  
**Summary**:  
**Disclaimer**: The authors are only playing with their own twisted muses. Transformers belong to Hasbro. Fandom-side, check the inspirations page (gatekat-fics .livejournal 290 .html). We draw from a ton of amazing stories and authors you should read.

Kneeling to the Sword 05: Invited Back  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ =================== ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wing hummed softly to himself as he led Dai Atlas back into the quarters they shared with Atl and Axe. It had been a long orn for both the small white jet and his Initiate. He was looking forward to some energon. Retrieving two cubes, he handed one to Dai Atlas, curling up on the couch to drink his own. He felt it when the light blue, black and white giant all but collapsed into a chair designed to take his massive frame.

Dai Atlas' optics were half off and nearly lidded as he drank on autopilot, his entire frame groaning and creaking as it settled.

Wing blinked over at the larger mech. "You look like you're about to fall into recharge in that chair," he observed, taking in the larger mech's exhausted state.

"More comfortable than half the berths I've recharged in," he murmured, working on his energon to give his systems enough to work with to get him to his berth and into an easy recharge.

"But you'll wake up with a sore neck if you doze off there, and you're too big for me to drag you back to your own berthroom," Wing pointed out. A yawn caught him by surprise, the young jet cycling his optics once or twice. "And I'm not in much better shape."

"I'll take myself to my berth when enough energon hits my systems," Dai Atlas promised, his optics off as he began processing the energon into a more useful form. "Go to your own, or sneak a soak in Atl's tub."

Wing snorted. "I'd probably end up passing out in it if I tried. Once this cube is empty I'm dragging my little white aft to my berth and crashing until morning."

The giant mech chuckled at Wing's description of himself even as he sighed in relief as the energon hit his systems, giving him a momentary burst of energy. "Recharge well, Wing," he said, pushing himself to his pedes to get to his berth before the energy burst faded.

White wings fluttered in response as Wing drained his own cube, peeling himself off the couch and stretching with a soft groan. "You too, Dai."

The big mech grunted before the door closed behind him, leaving Wing to make it to his own berth. Wing disposed of his empty cube, shaking his helm slightly clear it. He glided over to Dai Atlas' door, peeking in to make sure the larger mech had made it all the way to the berth. Once he was sure, he yawned again, hauling himself to his own berthroom and flopping onto the berth, curling around a pillow and was cycled into recharge before the berth settled around him.

SXSXSXSXSXSXSXSX S===================S SXSXSXSXSXSXSXS

"Wing," Dai Atlas' voice drifted into the white jet's processor some time later.

The white jet's wings twitched as he clawed his way back to awareness. His internal chrono told him he'd been in recharge less than a joor. Abruptly very large hands were around him, lifting him up half by the scruff and half in a cradle and there was a sense of movement.

Wing yipped in surprise, flailing briefly before his processor caught up with the rest of him, and he went almost limp. Blinking, he turned his helm to look up at the larger mech in confusion. "Dai?"

"Berth's cold alone," the giant grumbled, only partially awake as he stalked back to his quarters with Wing clutched against his chest like some kind of giant nap-toy.

Wing squirmed as much as the larger mech's grip would allow him, settling against the broad black chestplate and resting his helm against Dai Atlas' shoulder. "So you need company." The small jet relaxed completely, starting to purr very softly.

The giant grunted in agreement even as his field settled at Wing's reaction and gradually wrapped around the younger jet, meshing with warmth and comfort that went both ways. The Initiate's room was larger than his former one, but decorated much the same. It was all Wing really had time to notice before Dai Atlas flopped onto his back on the berth, Wing still clutched to his chest, and let out a long gust of air as his systems settled.

Wing settled comfortably on the larger mech's chest, humming in contentment as he rested his helm against warm armor, faintly hearing the steady pulse of Dai Atlas' spark through the thick plating. The white jet's purr was just loud enough to be faintly audible as he curled into Dai Atlas' embrace, golden optics dimming as he cycled back down toward recharge. "I'll be here if you need me to be."

SXSXSXSXSXSXSXSX S===================S SXSXSXSXSXSXSXS

Joors later Axe and Atl trudged into the common room. Axe flopped wearily in the chair his mate had occupied earlier while Atl fetched a cube of energon for each of them.

"Here," the grounder offered his Initiate a large jet grade regular energon with silver and copper dissolved in it before settling on a couch nearby for his own cube. "Is this schedule better for you?"

"Much," Axe replied. "I'm actually fully awake and coherent from the moment I get up. As opposed to recharge-walking through everything for joors until my processor finishes booting up." He nodded his thanks as he accepted the cube, taking a sip.

"Then this is what we'll keep as much as possible," Atl smiled and sipped his energon. "I can only imagine how far you might have gone if they didn't force you to be functional before you were ready."

Axe sighed softly, giving the other mech a smile. "The new schedule is very much appreciated. And there's no way to tell. Would make for some interesting speculation, though."

"It would. You'll go far here, and I have no doubt that you'll make a very good turn trading for night and evening shifts. Both to get rid of morning ones for you, but also taking them on for the morning folks like Wing. As long as it's not a punishment shift, there's plenty of freedom to trade them and what you use to trade."

"I'll keep that in mind." Axe nodded, taking another drink of his energon and humming contentedly as the energy hit his fuel tank. They settled into a comfortable silence, each going over the orn and enjoying relaxing with their evening energon in the wee hours of the morning.

Finishing his energon, Axe set the empty cube aside, getting to his pedes. "I think I'm going for recharge before I doze off in this chair."

"Recharge well then, Axe," Atl smiled at him. "I will see you at noon."

"Recharge well," Axe replied, making his way over to the berthroom he shared with his mate. Just inside the doorway, the black mech paused, optics brightening. "Hey, Atl. Look at this."

Silently but swiftly the large grounder stood and walked over, grinning as he came to a stop at the door and looked around Axe's frame. "Awww, that's adorable. Wing crawled in to snuggle. I knew he couldn't recharge alone for long."

Axe chuckled. "Wing got Dai so used to cuddling that apparently Dai can't recharge alone anymore." He smiled at the sight of his sleeping mate, arms draped over the white jet curled up on the black chest. Wing was deep in recharge, and still purring.

Atl chuckled and snapped several high-resolution captures for his personal files and to tease the big mech with. "Even more adorable, then. You don't mind?" He glanced up.

"I don't mind at all," Axe replied. "We're probably going to find them like this quite a bit, though after tonight Wing will probably come in on his own rather than Dai going to retrieve him." The black mech padded over to the berth, smiling down at Dai Atlas and Wing before easing himself down next to them.

"Good. Recharge well, Axe," Atl gave the scene a warm hum, a last capture, and back out to go to his quarters and a long hot oil soak to plan the next decaorn out.

Axe hummed in response, leaning against his mate and loosely draping his own arm over Wing. The white jet made a soft, sleepy chirring sound, leaning into the touch before settling back into deep recharge. Smiling, Axe rested his helm against Dai Atlas' shoulder and let recharge claim him.


	6. Family by Choice

**Fandom**: Transformers G1  
**Author**: gatekat, ultrarodimus on LJ  
**Pairing**: Axe/Dai Atlas  
**Rating**: NC-17  
**Codes**: Slash, Sticky, Historical Setting, Knights of Light  
**Summary**:  
**Disclaimer**: The authors are only playing with their own twisted muses. Transformers belong to Hasbro. Fandom-side, check the inspirations page (gatekat-fics .livejournal 290 .html). We draw from a ton of amazing stories and authors you should read.

Kneeling to the Sword 06: Family by Choice  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ =================== ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A low, soft moan and the changing of heat around him first drew Wing's attention from his recharge. The young jet twitched, wings shifting, optics warming up behind their covers. Lifting his helm, Wing looked around, making a soft, questioning sound. He was on the berth, the warmth to one side and he faced that way to see Dai Atlas on top of Axe. The pair were kissing and caressing, rousing each other even as they were making an effort to be quiet.

"Go back to recharge, Wing," Dai Atlas broke the kiss briefly.

Wing scooted over to give them more room, watching from bright gold optics. "That won't be easy." Settling down, trying to be unobtrusive, Wing continued to watch with interest.

The pair paused, both giving Wing their attention for a brief moment. Wing gave them his most innocent look, then concentrated on staying out of the way and blending into the background as much as a bright white jet could as they returned to kissing and stroking.

Axe chuckled into the kiss. ~I highly doubt he's going to go back into recharge now.~ He reached around his mate to grasp the leading edge of a long wing. ~Not like he hasn't watched us before.~

~Usually it's when he can hunt down someone to take the edge off,~ Dai Atlas moaned into their kiss and dug his fingers into the seam of Axe's cockpit.

~Not many mechs awake at this time of night.~ Axe slipped his hand under Dai Atlas' wing to reach the sensitive, rarely-touched metal underneath, his other palm gliding along the smooth surface of the slowly-spreading wings.

~No,~ Dai Atlas moaned deeply, his frame all but stilling as he sank into the touch with an intense burst of pleasure across his field.

Off to the side, Wing offlined his vocalizer before a whine could escape. He stayed as still as he could manage, pinions trembling, optics round and interested.

Axe's laugh was as much purr as chuckle. Tilting his helm, he applied lips, glossa, and denta to the edge of one of Dai Atlas' golden helm crests, fingers working their way to the wingtip vanes, twining around them.

With a throaty whimper Dai Atlas trembled. His fingers curled, one hand into the berth, the other into Axe's cockpit as his spike cover snapped open to release the long, thick length to pressurize.

The black mech let out a moan of anticipation, his valve cover opening, releasing a drop of lubricant onto the berth surface. He kneaded the sensitive vanes, continuing to nibble on Dai Atlas' crest, leaning into his mate's hands.

~How ... hot ... do you want me?~ Dai Atlas quivered with arousal, wanting to sink into his mate _badly_.

The black and gold triple changer wiggled his hips suggestively. ~Take me,~ he purred, glossa flirting with the base of the crest he'd been nibbling.

With a deep rumble that vibrated both their frames Dai Atlas shifted his hands to his mate's hips and drove his spike in until their arrays were flush and Axe stretched wide.

Axe moaned deeply, rolling his hips into his mate's. Dark fingers tightened on Dai Atlas' wing vanes briefly before a thumb stroked over the tip of the upper vane, the fingers of his other hand working into the wing joints.

Wing was almost vibrating from where he watched, fighting to keep his field close so as not to distract the pair. He was chewing absently on one knuckle, the fingers of his other hand digging into the berth.

He needn't have worried; the mates were thoroughly lost in each other and the pleasure of a valve tight around the slide of a thick, long spike as their hips moved in perfect tandem, driving into their joining and dragging the draw apart out.

Axe's engines revved high, the berth vibrating under him. Both hands ran over Dai Atlas' back, gliding along the seams, dipping in to stroke over the circuitry. He let out soft, purring moans in time to his larger mate's thrusts, blue optics lifting to meet fiery red as their pleasure spiraled higher.

"Love how tight you are," Dai Atlas growled before claiming a kiss intended to melt the mech under him as he hilted himself and rolled his hips.

The kiss had the desired result, Axe melting under his mate, hooking his fingers into a wing joint to brush against the mechanisms that extended Dai Atlas' long wings. ~Love how you fill me,~ the black mech moaned in response, hooking his other leg over dark hips.

Demand and desire, passion flaring hotter than the pleasure of their pounding and grinding hips soon had both mechs trembling in the building overload, electricity arching between them and across their frames.

Wing's plating was fluffed, wings flared open and quivering as he watched. He was still close enough to them that their fields wrapped around him, their desire and arousal feeding his own.

Axe arched into Dai Atlas' frame, his cockpit scraping against the black chestplate, venting hot air heavily as overload crashed over him, letting out a roar. He buried his face against his mate's neck, denta closing on an energon line.

Dai Atlas' bellow rattled the very walls, the vibrations carrying even beyond the soundproofing that had been upgraded just for the pair. His hips jammed forward, grinding against his mate's as thick, hot, charged transfluid spurted into Axe's valve, only to be dragged out with each small thrust that pumped more into the tight space.

A very soft keen escaped Wing despite his best efforts, the jet biting harder into his knuckle, hard enough to leave denta impressions in the metal. His optics were fixed on the pair.

Axe's frame remained locked up for a couple of kliks before loosening, the black and gold mech sinking back down onto the berth, purring. He stroked his mate's back, tilting his helm slightly to capture Dai Atlas' lips in a long, deep kiss.

~He's going to need _someone_ before he's going to manage to focus on training,~ Dai Atlas rumbled, his own frame relaxing into the languid pleasure of post overload. Knowing he could not afford more, he reluctantly pulled his hips up, pulling out of his mate.

The young jet's field reached out to lick against theirs, very aroused and very interested. White pinions and wings flared out, gold optics skipping from one to the other.

"Wing..." Dai Atlas' voice was gentle, uneasy as he and Axe separated a bit more. "I know we have ... but it's not right."

The small jet blinked at him, confusion seeping into his field. "Not right? Why not?" White plating began to flatten against Wing's frame.

"We've ... well, in our processors, we've kind of adopted you," Dai Atlas explained uncomfortably. "As our creation. It doesn't feel right to interface with my creation. I know there is no law against it ... it's just not something I do. That one time we did made me sure of how I feel about you."

Wing's jaw dropped, utter shock drowning out the arousal in his field. His optics were almost perfectly round as he _stared_ at the giant blue triple changer. "You..._what_?" His tenor voice quivered ever so slightly.

Dai Atlas nearly cringed. "We think of you as our creation."

Wing just _stared_ at him for a good half breem as the mates became increasingly uneasy. The white jet had completely forgotten about his previous state of arousal. All his attention was on this new piece of information.

Axe almost jumped right out of his armor when Wing suddenly leaped forward, landing right on Dai Atlas hard enough to get a surprised grunt from the bigger mech. Flinging his arms around the blue giant's frame as far as he could reach, Wing buried his face against Dai Atlas' shoulder, his whole body trembling. Rather than shock, his field overflowed with a sort of delirious happiness, complete and utter _joy_.

"You ... don't mind?" Dai Atlas asked cautiously as he wrapped an arm around his Knight-mentor.

The small jet mumbled something against blue armor, tilting his helm until his golden optics met Dai Atlas' red. "My creators rejected me when I turned out to be different from what they wanted me to be. I've never really had a family. Why would I mind?"

"Because you rank us," Dai Atlas tried to explain a thought process that was so far off Wing's. "A creation is of lower status."

"Don't care," Wing mumbled, not budging from where he was clinging to blue and black armor.

Axe sidled closer, smiling at the white jet. ~That's adorable,~ he commented to Dai Atlas, laughter dancing around the words.

~It is, and sad,~ Dai Atlas smiled down at Wing, his uncertainty falling away to stroke wings quivering with joy. ~How could anyone reject him?~

Wing made a happy chirr, leaning into the touch, completely relaxed. His field was a flare of joy tinted with _I-can't-believe-this-is-happening_.

~He was sparked into a stunt clan, and you know what those groups are like. More structured and restrictive than the military. With a personality like his, Wing wouldn't have fit in, and his creators probably tried to force him before giving up and turning their backs on him.~ Axe's thoughts carried the distinct impression that if he ever crossed paths with Wing's creators, unlikely as it was, he would have some _words_ with them.

~Well he's _ours_ now,~ Dai Atlas' rumble was protective. ~And _this_ one isn't going into battle to die.~

~He is ours,~ Axe agreed, settling against his mate's side, reaching up to rest his own hand on Wing's back, his smile widening as Wing scooted a bit sideways to lean into black armor.


	7. Dart and Crash

**Fandom**: Transformers G1  
**Author**: gatekat, ultrarodimus on LJ  
**Pairing**: Axe/Dai Atlas  
**Rating**: NC-17  
**Codes**: Slash, Sticky, Spark, Voyeurism, Historical Setting, Knights of Light  
**Summary**:  
**Disclaimer**: The authors are only playing with their own twisted muses. Transformers belong to Hasbro. Fandom-side, check the inspirations page (gatekat-fics .livejournal 290 .html). We draw from a ton of amazing stories and authors you should read.

Kneeling to the Sword 05: Dart and Crash  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ =================== ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So whose idea was this, anyway?" Dai Atlas demanded of Wing as they walked with Atl and Axe towards the largest arena in the Citadel.

"I really have no idea," Wing replied cheerfully. "When a bunch of Knights get together, sometimes the oddest things can come out of it. This is one of them." He reached over to pat the closest bit of his Initiate, a dark-plated forearm. "Dart is very good. This is going to be interesting."

"Define 'interesting'," Axe grumbled, ruffling black plating.

"We're going to get the oil beat out of us by a cycle-former," Dai Atlas grumbled back.

"And a small one, at that." Axe shook his helm. "Whoever came up with this idea needs to have their processor examined."

Wing snickered at that, looking over at Axe. "It's going to be a learning experience."

"Doubtful," Dai Atlas snorted. "We know we can be beaten by small mecha, and anyone who's watched us train knows it as well. Twenty-three vorns is not enough, even for us."

"Don't be like that," Atl patted Axe's arm. "It's an exhibition fight. Everyone knows how little time you've been training. It's a chance for Dart to show off, yes, but you don't have to win, or even do well against him to show off your own skills. If you do well, it will reflect well on us as your Daoshi."

"And it'll give you a chance to learn to defend against his style, since there will be and are other mechs who use something similar." Wing hopped up onto Dai Atlas' shoulder, a habit he'd gotten into several vorns before. He claimed it was because it was easier than running to match the larger mech's longer stride, and the first time he had done it he'd had to hop off quickly to avoid the startled Dai Atlas' reflexive swat. Axe had taken one look and immediately started teasing Wing about being a tame organic avian.

It didn't take long for Wing to become known as 'the Citadel's yingwu', which spurred Axe and Dai Atlas to teasingly debate if that was the correct term, since yingwu were brightly colored and never had white feathers. Dai Atlas also argued that Wing was more cybercat than avian.

Wing's only response to the friendly teasing was to point out that some planets had creatures that were as much feline as they were avian. He didn't mind the teasing at all, though he drew the line at being teased with energon wafers.

"I still say that whoever came up with this idea needs their processor examined," Axe grumbled as the door opened to the arena.

Due to Dai Atlas' height, Wing had to duck down across the blue mech's shoulders to avoid getting clipped by the doorframe. One hand glided lightly over the gold crests before Wing hopped off, turning to look up into red optics. "You'll do just fine," the white jet told him, flashing a bright grin.

~My goal for the orn is to not have another penance,~ Dai Atlas informed his mate as they angled towards to the display area while the Knights went to the stands. ~And maybe surprise them at how well a bonded pair can fight as a team. They are _very_ short on bonded mates here.~

~I have noticed as much,~ Axe replied. He eyed the small mostly-white mech waiting for them before glancing over to see who else was present. Only a few other Knights were there, one of them being Vanguard, but as Wing and Atl took their seats he saw others trickling in.

"Most everyone's coming," Dart smiled at them, relaxed and warm and just a bit excited. "Knights, Initiates, Supplicants and most of the dependents. We don't do display matches often. Thank you for agreeing."

Long white and light blue wings shifted. The two large mechs hadn't figured on doing this in front of nearly the entire Citadel, but they had never backed down from a challenge and weren't about to start now.

"It promises to be an interesting experience," Dai Atlas replied neutrally, gazing down at the mech who stood roughly one-quarter his height and a bare fraction of his mass, being much smaller than Wing.

"Yes it does," Dart smiled, flicking a golden gaze at the gathering crowd as more and more mecha filed in from all ranks and sectors of Citadel life. "Hopefully an educational one for everyone as well."

Axe watched the crowd assembling, shifting slightly, before returning his gaze to his mate and the much smaller Knight. He could hear the murmurs of anticipation rippling through the growing crowd. Plating settling closer to his frame, he looked down at Dart. "Do we get some time to warm up beforehand?"

"Go for it," the Knight motioned to them. "I'd say you can plan too, but I'm sure you are anyway," he grinned and stepped back a bit to give himself and them room. He drew his short swords and began a kata that was simple for him, though still well beyond what the larger mechs had been taught.

The two larger mechs exchanged glances, watching for a moment. They were not used to being the weaker performers in an exhibition match, and it felt decidedly strange.

~How should we handle this?~ Axe asked his mate, drawing his own swords.

~We do our best, and we fight _right_ on the edge of what's allowed,~ Dai Atlas' grin was almost feral, a look Axe was accustomed to as a sign his mate intended to break every rule without technically doing anything he could be charged on. ~If we haven't been explicitly told we can't, then we can. And we surrender with as much dignity as we can manage.~

Axe mirrored the grin, thoughts and ideas already beginning to present themselves. They had never really seen Dart fight, having been busy either with their own Supplicant chores or Initiate training. Neither of the pair was quite sure what to expect. ~This should be fun, then.~

~A fair assumption would be the same basic form as Wing and Atl,~ Dai Atlas added as he relaxed into his katas, refamiliarizing himself with his blades as he always did. ~The Knights practice a sub-form of Metallikato. The details may vary a bit between them, but they all share the same art.~

~And we are pretty used to their fighting styles, having to put up with them every orn,~ Axe agreed, settling into his own katas. It had taken him quite a while to get used to the twin swords; he'd probably taught Atl how to swear in several other languages while he'd been getting the hang of the weapons. It was radically different than anything he'd used before despite his propensity for using ancient weapons.

They both noted as Dart finished a lighting fast dance as impressive as anything Wing did to show off and didn't begin another. A glance at the stands showed them _very_ full with close to five hundred mecha. The Knights were easy to pick out with their Great Swords, the Initiates largely identifiable by their short swords and lack of a Great Sword. Supplicants and dependents were distinguishable only by their manner, at least for Dai Atlas and Axe. Many familiar faces were there, all eager for the show but lacking the sneers and eagerness for damage as most military crowds wore.

"Ready?" Dart asked politely, his frame relaxed.

Black plating quivered minutely, though Dai Atlas would probably be the only one to notice.

~It can't be any worse than having Wing wipe the floor with me,~ Dai Atlas huffed and shifted away from his mate, creating a fairly wide triangle as the larger mechs settled into a defensive stance. "Ready."

Dart nodded and took in the pair, judging them not by their rank but by their stance and bearing. He knew this pair were far more than mere Initiates. Without any apparent warning the white cycleformer leapt, landing on a bar sticking out from the arena wall only just far enough for one pede.

~Just be glad you're too big for him to actually throw you around the training room, like I've seen other Knights doing,~ Axe pointed out, turning his attention to Dart and completely ignoring the audience.

Dart's opening move got the slightest of pauses from the black and gold triple changer, blue optics tracking on the much smaller mech as the grounder _flew_ with all the grace of a natural flier.

~Impressive,~ Dai Atlas commented as he tracked the speed and agility of their opponent, taking note of how outclassed they were in that department, but also of the price that Dart paid for it; light armor, low strength and a small frame.

Dart followed his designation with a sudden ricochet sideways that slashed his sword across Axe's thick golden chevron and thinner black right audial antennas, leaving a distinctive line of white across them.

~Very impressive,~ Axe agreed, optics narrowing. He whipped around, his own sword coming up in a swift arc. While Dart was more agile and faster, the two larger mechs were very quick for their size and even Axe had a reach nearly twice Dart's full height. They'd often been underestimated on both counts.

The lithe Knight twisted out of the way, sheathing one sword and grabbing a cable hanging from the ceiling.

~Fast little glitch,~ Dai Atlas narrowed his optics and calculated the physical limits of what Dart's frame could take. With a move fast enough to startle much the audience he lunged forward, his thrusters engaged, and caught Dart across the arm as the Knight was between two cables.

~Same basic form as Wing and Atl, but a very different personal style.~ Axe came in from another angle, twisting to avoid catching a cable on his armor, and managed a glancing swipe across Dart's leg. A huff of surprise escaped him as the cycleformer used the triple changer's blade as a springboard, launching himself out of range again, but not before giving Axe a swipe of white across the hand.

Moving even faster than the triple changers anticipated, Dart came in low to leave a bright line of white around Dai Atlas' leg, and only just managed to avoid the retaliatory stomp.

Narrow blue optics tracked on Dart, sweeping across the array of available bars and cables. There was just no way to tell which way Dart would go.

Axe glanced quickly over to Dai Atlas, processor racing as he tried to work out a way to corner Dart and pin the smaller mech. Spotting an opening, the black mech darted in, managing to leave a black stripe across Dart's hip before Dart could dodge.

It was the last hit either managed for the better part of three breems, a timeframe that left both giants with a lacework of white on their frames and shortening tempers.

Axe felt the command and responded without thinking, or even processing it to language. He simply moved as his mate directed and suddenly Dai Atlas was in front of him, the crack of armor closing on armor until the weaker bracing creaked ominously and a vocalizer let out a squeak.

A ripple of shock ran through the audience, more than a few mechs jumping to their pedes, biting off exclamations. Vanguard's wings were raked high and quivering, white optics flaring as he stared hard at the giant blue triple changer. Wing's golden optics were wide, the jet chewing anxiously on one knuckle, his other hand closing tightly on Atl's arm.

Slowly, an uneasy silence descended, all optics straining to see what was going on.

"Do you yield?" Dai Atlas looked at the mech clutched in his hand. His tone was calm, smooth, utterly in control.

"I yield," Dark got out with a decidedly relieved sound as the hand closed around him loosened, then set him on his pedes. He turned to the audience and waved cheerfully, particularly at Atl, who looked like he was about to have a spark seizure.

Wing was the first to relax, white armor settling, wings folding to his spine. Vanguard looked at Dai Atlas for a long moment, then nodded slightly, his wings lowering back to their usual position.

Muttering under his breath, Hardwing stalked forward to get a better look at the crush damage on Dart's frame. Even from a distance he could see the clear outlines of Dai Atlas' fingers imprinted on the cycleformer's armor.

"You are insane. Certified and classified," the chief medic muttered, though it was unclear exactly who he was talking to. He glanced up at Dai Atlas. "If I didn't know your background, I'd say you were lucky not to do more than cosmetic damage."

"But you know I know _exactly_ how much pressure every nanometer of that frame can take at a glance," the light blue mech smirked. "It's been my function for longer than most of the mecha here have been alive combined."

Wing bounced over, the Sovereign and Atl following him at a more normal pace. White optics scrutinized both of the larger mechs before settling on Dai Atlas. "You came into this match with something to prove to the rest of us."

Dai Atlas inclined his helm with the dignity befitting his former life. "Yes. My temper, my rage, is merely a tool. Useful when controlled, and I can control it."

"And you have proven that now." Vanguard glanced at Dart. "I am well aware of how frustrating Dart's sparring style can be to those who face him for the first time. You did very well."

Axe shifted his weight from one pede to the other, eying the streaks of white criss-crossing his frame. "I've never seen a style quite like that."

"I recognize both Diffusion and Circuit-Su elements, but mostly it's not actually a martial art," Dai Atlas focused on Dart as Hardwing continued to examine him. "Am I correct?"

"Yap," Dart grinned up at him, chipper as always despite his dents. "Normal acrobatics and parkour mixed in with a frame that's suited for it."

"And a helo's spatial processor," Atl added with a grunt.

"And a complete disregard for gravity and the effects of landing," Hardwing muttered before standing and grabbing Dart's shoulder. "Come on," he tugged the cycleformer away.

"Taking off is optional, landing is mandatory," Wing snickered.

"A medic's worst headache on two pedes," Axe commented with a snort. "I'm actually somewhat looking forward to sparring with him again in the future. Once I've gotten more training of my own and have a good idea of how to pin the little daredevil."

"I wish you luck. He's difficult even for myself to pin," Vanguard tipped his wings almost playfully. "I am sure he will indulge in a rematch whenever you ask. I know it will be a popular one," he inclined his helm slightly towards the crowd that was dispersing.

"I wonder how long it's going to take to get used to not seeing betting," Dai Atlas shook his helm slightly and accepted Wing's subtle lead out of the arena, Atl and Axe not far behind.

"Not the kind of betting you're used to, at least," Wing chirped, almost bouncing next to the larger mech. "Doesn't mean there isn't any going on."

"It was odd not hearing the audience cheering for damage or for Dai Atlas to crush Dart, but that's one oddity I will be only too glad to get used to," Axe noted.

"What _is_ being wagered?" Dai Atlas asked somewhat stiffly as his processor went over everything that wasn't credits he'd known to have been bet in other times and places.

"Shift schedules -mostly monitor duty -, assorted chores, things like that," the white mech answered, long used to what that stiffness meant in his Initiate. "Nothing major. If credits are ever wagered, the amounts are very small. And that doesn't happen often."

"_Very_ different from military wagers. They did shifts and chores too, but that was the beginning, not the ending," Dai Atlas settled his plating rather forcefully. "I will not be sorry to no longer find it normal to bet on the lives of others."

"Betting here is more about who'll land the first strike, or on the winner as determined by how much paint they get covered in or, when sparring with blunt blades instead of paint blades, how many strikes landed in a set amount of time," Wing told them. "No one bets on fuelshed here." He smiled brightly up at his Initiate, taking in the amount of white streaking blue armor.

"Or for slaves, berthrights, prisoners, lives," Dai Atlas said, a hint of hopefulness in his tone.

"Nothing like that," Atl managed to choke back his horror at the implications there, and how certain he was that he had no idea how far it really went.

Axe cycled his optics several times. "Very different from what we're used to. But different in a good way."

"Yes, a good way," Dai Atlas nodded as his frame and field settled with relief.

"You're not in the military anymore. You're Knights-in-training, and we do things entirely differently." Wing reached up to pat Dai Atlas' arm as high as he could reach. "Now let's get back to the washracks and get that sparring paint off you."

"Please," Axe cut in. "My plating is starting to itch."

"You're getting soft," Dai Atlas teased him, his wings flicking in amusement at his mate and affection across their bond.

"Can't tell me yours isn't getting just as itchy," Axe retorted, reaching out to lightly poke a long white wing. ~Besides, there's a great deal else we can do in the washracks,~ he added with a purr.

"Of course, but not enough to _whine_ about it," Dai Atlas retorted. ~And there is indeed, including getting clean.~

Axe snorted, shaking his helm. Wing only laughed at the two of them.


	8. Greeting an Old Ally

**Fandom**: Transformers G1  
**Author**: gatekat, ultrarodimus on LJ  
**Pairing**: Axe/Dai Atlas  
**Rating**:  
**Codes**: Slash, Historical Setting, Knights of Light  
**Summary**:  
**Disclaimer**: The authors are only playing with their own twisted muses. Transformers belong to Hasbro. Fandom-side, check the inspirations page (gatekat-fics .livejournal 290 .html). We draw from a ton of amazing stories and authors you should read.

Demeter was created by switchxtrick and bount by me fav .me/d4xlyt9

Kneeling to the Sword 08: Greeting an Old Ally  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ =================== ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was one of the rare off orns for Wing, Atl and their Initiates. The whole group had actually slept in for once, until Thorn had come checking to make sure they were actually still among the functional. The black Knight had found Atl still recharging in his room, and a cuddle pile of Dai Atlas, Axe and Wing in the Initiates' room. Wing had been purring in his recharge, managing to sprawl over both of the larger mechs, occasionally letting out a soft chirp.

Evening found the four in the Knights' rec room, gathered around one of the tables, other Knights and their Initiates scattered here and there. A few had settled at tables near the quartet's, participating in the conversations. They were listening to, commenting on, and laughing at a tale a large orange and blue mech named Hydrau was telling about something he'd encountered while he'd been out on walkabout.

It triggered Axe to spin a tale of youthful mischief trailing across a dozen worlds, from changing out the senior officer's washrack supplies with paints, glue and anything else they found that didn't belong there, all the way to the experiments many of them ran on creating high grade and any number of other intoxicants.

Laughter echoed through the room, drawing curious looks from the other occupants. The laughter doubled as Dai Atlas added a few of his own tales, of the trouble he'd gotten into when he'd been a young troublemaker.

Some time later, one of the others spotted someone entering the rec room, craning his neck to look. "Hey, Demeter's back!"

Both giant triple changers perked up sharply, but for the moment they merely watched the slender, brown furred microbot trot into the room dominated by mecha that while average sized by official standards still towered over her like Dai Atlas towered over most mecha.

~She's still wearing that canine alt,~ Dai Atlas mused. ~Slight upgrades, but that's definitely Snapjaw, no matter what she calls herself these orns.~

~That's the smallest Great Sword I have yet to see,~ Axe mused, looking at the hilt showing over her helm. ~She looks good, though.~

Wing looked around one of the other mechs. "Demeter! Welcome back!"

She turned to smile at the familiar voice of the mech she'd long enjoyed traveling on the shoulder of only to freeze with her mouth open in a greeting that never made it out of her vocalizer. Only a strange squeaking sound escaped as her large brown optics went _huge_.

Axe smiled brightly, lifting a hand to wave to her. "You look like you've seen a ghost," he commented, blue optics gleaming.

"I get the feeling you two were the last mecha she ever expected to see _here_," Hydrau drawled, reaching over to swat lightly at black armor.

"If her optics get any wider they'll pop right out of her helm," another mecha, a femme of tan and cream and sandy-brown commented.

"G-General Dai Atlas..." she tried to get herself collected.

"Initiate Dai Atlas now," he smiled at her. "I'm sure you heard that we left."

A small nod and Demeter seemed to pick herself up from her shock. "I did. I think the entire empire talked of nothing else for at least a vorn. I'm shocked you survived the Prime's rage."

"We're survivors, first and foremost," Axe pointed out. "We've learned more than a few tricks over the vorns. He tried to bring us down, but, as you can see, we got away. Found our way here literally flying on fumes."

"Both of them are Knight Initiates now, and doing very well." There was pride in Wing's voice. The white jet pulled over another chair, inviting Demeter to join them. With a grin that was quite familiar to everyone, she easily hopped up, then decided that Wing's shoulder, leaning on his audials, was a better spot once he'd sat back down.

"So which of you picked who?" she asked, looking between Wing and Atl.

Wing grinned up at Dai Atlas. "I'm not the only one who likes to perch on shoulders," he commented teasingly, then looked back to the microbot on his shoulder. "Dai is my Initiate, and Atl is training Axe."

"It's not just his _shoulder_ you perch on," Axe chuckled. The white jet made a face at him, getting a laugh from the larger triple changer.

"It's the best way to get optic level with a group of mecha," Demeter chuckled. "So did you manage to dodge when you tried the first time?"

"Barely," the white jet replied with a chuckle. "He's got fast reflexes. Makes me bless my stunt engines sometimes."

"Wing only managed to stay on his shoulder for maybe four nanokliks that first time," Axe added, picking up the energon cube on the table in front of him.

"He's lucky he didn't end up perched _inside_ the wall for it," she giggled madly, her rich brown optics glittering in amusement at her former General.

"I think he learned well from the first time I put him into a wall," Dai Atlas smirked, managing to joke, a little, over the traumatic event.

Wing grinned. "I learned, yes. I've gotten very good at dodging."

"I think it took roughly a decaorn to get Dai used to having a jet on his shoulder, or at least used to it enough that he wouldn't try to swat him off," Axe added.

"I'm still not _used_ to it," the largest mech grumbled in good humor. "I've just learned _that_ particular weight isn't going to stop trying."

"Wing does tend to get what he wants," Atl chuckled. "So what's the news from the outside?"

"At least you don't try to swat me off anymore." Wing reached over to pat a dark forearm. "And you're used to it enough to tease me about it!"

The rest of the group leaned over in anticipation of some new news to chat about.

"The Prime is still fuming about his Generals, though most everyone else has either forgotten or is very quietly cheering your escape," she began with the obvious subject of interest. "Rumors are rife as to where you two are, though I didn't hear anything about you being _here_. Most are that you joined one of the rebel groups and are plotting to assassinate the Prime or other such nonsense."

Axe snorted into his energon. "We want nothing to do with him, in any way. Hopefully no one ever does connect us to this place... Though the Citadel is pretty much out of mind to the vast majority of the population. I'd only heard of the Citadel in passing; not even Dai here knew where it was."

Other bits of news Demeter had to offer included a collapse at the Sonic Canyons, an artists' feud-turned-paint-war in Crystal City, alliances and new bondings and sparklings in various noble Houses, and a great deal of assorted casual gossip. All of it was eagerly picked over by the group. The Citadel had very little contact with the outside world, so most of their news came from Knights returning from walkabout. It was always vorns out of date, but no one cared.


	9. Twisting The Truth

**Fandom**: Transformers G1  
**Author**: gatekat, ultrarodimus on LJ  
**Pairing**: Axe/Dai Atlas, Atl/Wing, Wing/Thorn  
**Rating**: NC-17  
**Codes**: Slash, Historical Setting, Knights of Light, Sticky, Death  
**Summary**:  
**Disclaimer**: The authors are only playing with their own twisted muses. Transformers belong to Hasbro. Fandom-side, check the inspirations page (gatekat-fics .livejournal 290 .html). We draw from a ton of amazing stories and authors you should read.

Kneeling to the Sword 09: Twisting The Truth  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ =================== ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Even after so long, Axe still had mixed emotions about his schedule. He was grateful beyond words that he was almost never asked to move before noon, but that also meant he didn't get to join his mate in their berth until only a couple joors before Dai Atlas was expected to get up. They didn't get to recharge together much more than they did when Axe was still a Supplicant and they _missed_ it. At the same time, Axe had never felt so productive in his entire existence. From the moment he got up he was coherent, fully focused and everything seemed to come so much easier than before.

Wing watched the black and gold triple changer from a short distance away as Axe cleaned up after sparring with Shogun. Over the centuries he had gotten to know his Initiate's bonded mate very well. Now it was time for the pair to become full Knights. But first, they had to undergo their final trial. Wing had to speak to Axe about the role the black mech would be playing in Dai Atlas' final trial, and he was not looking forward to the conversation.

He delayed it as long as he dared to, waking up early to catch Axe after he had showered at the end of his training but before there was any chance that Dai Atlas would be up yet, even if he woke up early to enjoy being in the berth with his mate for a couple joors.

"Axe," Wing called, finally revealing his presence. He stepped forward, closer to the black and gold mech, tilting his helm to meet the larger mech's blue optics.

"You're up early, even for you," Axe commented, a curious harmonic in his voice.

Wing chuckled. "Earlier than even I would prefer. I'm a morning mech, but not this early in the morning." He walked over to Axe, one wing extending to lightly tap black armor. "You and Dai Atlas will be Knighted soon."

The black giant froze, processing that and what Wing hadn't said for a moment. "A process that _very_ little is said about in the records available to us."

"It's one of the Order's secrets," Wing admitted. "Initiates aren't told until after it's already over. But we've never had a bonded pair in training at the same time for a very long time. Every Knight Initiate has to undergo one final test before they are given the chance to bond their Great Sword and join our ranks. I'm going to need your help with Dai's final trial."

"Which means it's going to be a _very_ ugly affair for both of us," Axe's optics narrowed and he carefully closed the bond as much as he dared to keep his mate from picking up too much. "What do you need of me?"

"It's never easy, for any of us," Wing replied. White wings quivered at some memory before Wing visibly steeled himself. "For Dai... It is going to be very hard, I won't lie to you. You might end up hating me for this." Wing inhaled slowly, x-venting equally slowly. "Sovereign Vanguard has decided that Dai's trial is to see how he copes with the loss of the bond, the loss of you. We're not going to harm you, or him; what we will have to do is block the bond. So neither of you can feel each other."

Axe nearly curled forward into a heap before he caught himself with clawed fingers against the wall. He clamped down on the bond _hard_ before he woke his mate. With blue optics nearly white he stared at Wing, not truly comprehending what the mech was telling him.

"You know I'm going to have to be in stasis for this to work," Axe trembled even as he said it.

White wings drooped, Wing's pinions flattening against his nacelles. "I know. There's no way around it. This must be done."

"How will he think I expire?" Axe managed to ask, his voice shaky as he struggled to pull himself together.

Wing shifted. "Periodically, groups of raiders make passes at us. There's another such group in the area. The Sovereign says you can come with us when we chase them off and take a minor wound, which we would play up as fatal. Or you could fake such an injury. Either would work. Personally, I don't want to see you injured at all, but that's just my opinion."

"Will Dai Atlas be on the field?" Axe began plotting, working in his required retreat in dozens of ways. "And do you need to know before the battle what I'm going to do?"

"He will be with us, yes," Wing confirmed. "It will give both of you a better idea of how we operate. And no, I don't have to know beforehand."

Axe nodded. "Then I'll be injured, for real or otherwise. Hardwing does the rest, I assume." He hesitated. "Is anyone going to stop him if he decides to commit suicide?"

The white jet flinched at the thought, then nodded. "Yes. We will stop him if he tries to take that path."

"Then be ready," Axe said grimly. "If he takes off more than a few lengths, he'll be headed for Iacon and the Prime."

Wing nodded solemnly. "We will be ready."

"Good. Now I need you to make excuses for me to my mate. I'm going back to the arenas to see who I can pick a match with," Axe almost grumbled. "There's no way I can face him right now."

The white jet reached out to pat a dark shoulder gently. "I'll do my best."

"Thanks," Axe nodded and left, trying to look like he wasn't fleeing his mate and the confrontation that would ensue if Dai Atlas realized how upset he was right now.

Wing watched the larger mech go, wings drooping. Taking a moment to get himself together, the white jet walked back into his Initiate's berthroom, sliding onto the berth, then onto Dai Atlas' chest. Sighing softly, he curled up on black metal and slid into a light recharge.

SXSXSXSXSXSXSXSX S===================S SXSXSXSXSXSXSXS

Vanguard, the Sovereign of the Light, looked around the great tactical planning room of the Citadel. It was a space that was rarely used, built in a time when the Citadel was under attack regularly, but upgraded with the times. This orn there were just over two hundred Knights, every mecha who bore a Great Sword was looking at him or at the tactical display in the middle of the room. His optics held Wing's, then Atl's a bit longer than most; this battle would be the beginning of the hardest moment in a Daoshi's existence; the transition from Initiate to Knight of their charge.

"Knights of Light," the burgundy Seeker's deep voice rolled over the tense crowd. Most had seen real battle before, though not all, and it showed in who was the most excitably uneasy. "The Citadel is once more under threat. The raiders have returned." He motioned toward the display that showed the Citadel, the area around it and their opponents' camp in full tactical display that was transmitted to each of their HUDs. "This force is an unusually large and well armed one. Though they are not here, Initiates Dai Atlas and Axe will join us in the battle. They have not been Knighted, but they each have more experience than most of us combined. It will also be the beginning of their final trials."

Murmuring swept through the room, a few of the other Knights glancing at Atl and Wing. Everyone was well aware of who they were training, and all of Cybertron knew about the careers of the two mecha.

A mid-sized slate-blue and gray flier shifted. "Is that wise, Sovereign? We are all well aware of how traumatic the final trials can be for a fledgling Knight. Having not one but two trials beginning in a major confrontation..."

"The confrontation is the background that will allow the trial of Dai Atlas to begin. He will experience his bonded's deactivation," Vanguard allowed that to settle into the gathering. "Initiate Axe has agreed to be put in stasis and an inhibitor placed on his spark to mimic his end. He will be damaged, or indicate he has been, and sent to Hardwing during the battle. While they are separated it will happen."

"Dai Atlas is not going to react well," someone else pointed out from one of the higher tiers. "What's to stop him from berserking?"

"His training, if he was taught well," Vanguard answered.

"According to Axe, he is much more likely to take off for Iacon to ... remove ... the Prime," Atl spoke up smoothly, his own distress at this easy to read to those who knew him well. "The largest and best of our fliers must be ready to stop him. Axe also said that he may shrug it off until the battle is over and decide calmly what he is going to do. This is not his first broken bond. However, he has indicated that it will be his last."

"It's his third," Wing added very quietly, flipping his wings slightly. He leaned toward Atl. "It's what his reaction will be after the trials are over that I'm worried about..."

Tornado looked around the room. "The Initiate I am training can be of help. As a police mecha he was trained to take down fury- or grief-driven mecha." He nodded. "I will keep an optic on Dai Atlas." He sat down again, leaning forward to study the tactical displays.

"Thank you," Vanguard tipped his wings in acknowledgement. "Shogun is also one of the larger mecha among us. Now, who has questions about the tactical plan presented?"

Several other mecha began asking questions about various points of the outlined plan. Discussions and counter-discussions flew across the chamber. When it calmed down, Vanguard signaled several Knights to join him as he worked his way to Wing and Atl.

"Are you prepared for this, Wing?" he asked gently, his field and wing cant supportive of the young mech he'd watched grow into a Knight he was proud to claim.

Wing made a face. "I don't like it," he admitted. "But then, no Daoshi does. As their adopted jetling, I like it even less. But it has to be done. I'm as prepared as I'll ever be."

"Every Knight knows the pain of breaking so we may heal stronger and pure," Marwir said as she placed a hand on his shoulder. "Every Knight who passes on our traditions knows the pain of doing it to one they care for greatly. You are both ready."

"Doesn't make it any easier," Wing murmured.

Tornado reached out to pat the young jet's shoulder. "It's never easy. Dai Atlas is a strong mech."

The other Knights in the group murmured their agreement.

"We," Vanguard motioned to the half dozen Knights that had gathered around Wing and Atl, "are those who will ensure your Initiate does nothing irreversible, be it flight or violence where he stands. What can you tell us that we do not know?"

"I've never seen him really fly; it's too dangerous for him to fly, so I can't say what he might do once he's in the air," Wing replied. "Anyone who has sparred with him or watched him train knows how strong he is."

Aurora chuckled and flicked her wings. "Strong, fast for his size, liable to pull tricks from a hundred fighting styles, determined."

"They'll all be carrying the heavy medical stunners that took him down before," Hardwing added grimly. "This is insanely risky with a mecha like him," the chief medic glared at Vanguard, then held up a hand to stop him. "I know, pit damn it. I know _exactly_ who plans these things out."

"I have," a low, lilting voice spoke from Wing's hand level. "I knew him when he was very much in his battlefield prime. He can outfly most Seekers, his armor has taken blasts meant to take a gestalt down and he's continued to fight. Most Knights could kill him in a one on one fight, but I doubt many could subdue him if he wasn't willing to play by sparring rules. You'll need those medical stunners, and don't be shy about hitting him repeatedly. He's got more redundant systems than most."

"I know, Demeter," Hardwing reached down to pat the tiny Knight's furry helm, making her canine ears twitch. "I've had my hands in most of those systems."

"Going to be interesting trying to keep him from taking off." One corner of Tornado's mouth quirked into a tiny smile. "Going to be even more interesting getting him back to the Citadel if we have to stun him. He's no lightweight. Not taking into account the extra weight of white jet." He tilted his helm at Wing, who made a face at him but refrained from sticking out his glossa.

"When pushed that far, he makes no effort to stay within the rules," Wing added. "Remember when he and Axe sparred with Dart for the first time."

"It is difficult to forget," Vanguard actually smiled. "It was amazing to see so many moves integrated into our form so smoothly. Yes, and we will push him much further than Dart ever did. We also all remember his first flashback among us," he glanced at Wing. "I do not believe anyone will underestimate him."

"He still regrets that." Wing's wings fluttered. He'd made a point of avoiding landing a blow near the leg joint in question since that particular flashback. "Dai Atlas is definitely not a mech to be underestimated. Hopefully, between all of us we can keep him from flying back to Iacon, or doing anything equally drastic. Axe warned me to keep an optic on him... Losing his third bonded may drive him to suicide."

"That is what the flight to Iacon is," Demeter told them. "Suicide for an old warrior. You pick a worthy fight you have little chance of winning. He'll challenge the Prime."

White wings tensed. "He won't go. We won't let him."

Tornado nodded slowly. "Hopefully it won't come to that."

"Agreed," she nodded before drifting towards another group while those who would make sure Dai Atlas survived his trial continued to plan their additional duties in the coming battle.

SXSXSXSXSXSXSXSX S===================S SXSXSXSXSXSXSXS

The entire contingent of the Citadel of Light was gathered. Everyone, from the most battle-hardened and senior Knights to the youngest and least skilled dependents had a purpose in defending their home on this orn. Most of the Knights were to be on the front lines. Everyone with medical training or experience of any kind who wasn't needed on the front line had been pulled in by Hardwing to assist the injured. The few non-Knights who were large, strong or able to fly had been recruited and organized by Senior Knight Angel to rescue any badly injured Knights from the field if the Knights could not get themselves to help. Those with good sensors were set on watch. Those who knew how were set to lock down every entrance to the Citadel that no one normally thought about.

Though it all, everyone watched Dai Atlas and Axe. Watched the pair twitch and try not to overstep their rank when everything in them was screaming at them to take charge and lead the army as they had for so long few mecha alive knew a time when either one was not a command officer. Instead the pair busied themselves with doing anything and everything that didn't seem to be getting done.

It looked like the nervous energy many of the younger Knights were displaying in various ways, but few were fooled. The looming battle did not faze this pair any more than it did the few other former front line soldiers who'd seen vorns of action. This was the stress of being at the bottom of the rank structure when they _knew_ more than those at the top.

Wing was darting between the command group and his Initiate, trying to keep his nervousness in check. He was looking forward to this even less than most of the others. This orn would see the beginning of a difficult and painful trial for Dai Atlas, as well as being the largest battle the Citadel had seen since the days when they were regularly under attack from armies.

Around them Knights were doing last-minute checks on their armor and weapons, some of them honing their swords to an even sharper edge. Plasma and energy blades crackled and flared, their light glinting off their wielders' armor.

"I'd tell you to relax, but I know it won't help," Dai Atlas told Wing when he darted over once more, checking on the ancient pair as they settled into the last checks of their weapons and armor. "Hold still." Dai Atlas all but grabbed the twitchy jet to inspect him. "We are _not_ going to lose you in your first battle."

"I've never seen a battle this big before," Wing admitted, settling into Dai Atlas' hands and trying to use the larger mech's calm to help ground himself. But that was only a half-truth. It was the blue giant's looming final trial that was making Wing so nervous. That, however, was not something he could admit to. Trying not to fidget too much, Wing let himself be thoroughly inspected, armor and weapons, yielding to the older mech's experienced optic. Never hurt to get a second opinion of his preparations.

"I don't think most Knights have seen anything this big." Axe tested the edge of one of his short swords critically. He had to admire the bladesmiths of the Citadel; they knew how to turn out a very high-quality blade.

"Not in living memory," Atl agreed as he joined them, Axe's great ax carried in both hands. "I talked Vanguard into letting you have it back for the battle, since it is your weapon. Just try to favor your swords. They are the traditional weapons of a Knight of Light."

Axe's optics brightened and a wicked grin appeared on his face as he accepted the weapon. "My thanks." He tested the edge of the blade, hefting the ax to get used to the way it felt in his hands again. It had been a long time since he'd last had the chance to wield it. "And I will try."

Wing peered around Dai Atlas' arm, flicking a wing in apology as the larger mech grumbled at him to hold still so he could be properly inspected. "I think you just made his orn, Atl." He inspected the ax curiously, having heard of it but never actually seen it.

"Definitely," Axe grinned and set to work sharpening the edge of the old and very vicious looking weapon nearly as tall as Axe was.

"I'm pleased," Atl smiled brightly. "Are you all ready?" He glanced between the two giants as Wing was finally released with a satisfied sound from Dai Atlas.

Wing took his time detaching himself from Dai Atlas, pressing briefly against the larger mech's plating before reluctantly peeling away and standing beside the triple changer. White armor ruffled and settled again.

"More or less," Dai Atlas rumbled. A long wing twitched. "It feels... distinctly odd to be going into battle and not leading the army."

"I'm sure," Atl told him easily. "Just remember we're a fairly egalitarian society. Don't be afraid to offer tactics or advice. You may be an Initiate, but we all know you are both extremely seasoned command officers as well. Not everyone is going to listen, but you won't be reprimanded for it."

Dai Atlas nodded. "We'll keep that in mind." He rested one hand absently on the pommel of one of the swords he carried.

Preparations were wrapping up, the Knights gathering into a group before the main gates of the Citadel. They were preparing to move out when Dai Atlas and Axe followed their Daoshi to join the gathering.

That was where things went slightly sideways for the two former Generals. They could sense the order, but it was the order that mixed first-orn grunts in training with special operations. It didn't _look_ like order. Just a large group that knew how to fight and had a sense of rank and purpose.

~This is going to kill me,~ Dai Atlas groaned to his mate.

Axe reached over to pat Dai Atlas' shoulder. ~The Knights have managed to hold off the raiders for this long. I would expect there's more to them - and their tactics - than we're seeing. At least, I would _hope_ so.~ He looked over the assembled mecha. ~Either way, this is going to be an experience. Good or bad, I can't really say.~

~It's going to be a victory too, even if I have to pound the Knights into a coherent force on the fly,~ Dai Atlas said grimly. ~But raiders, just the two of us can take most of them.~

~You're probably going to have to,~ Axe replied. ~And yes, we can take most of the raiders.~ The black mech shifted, trying not to think of what else was going to happen this orn. Blue optics flicked toward the small white jet walking with them, and gold optics flicked up to meet the blue gaze.

~You haven't been this nervous since long before we bonded,~ Dai Atlas turned nearly his full attention to his mate. ~Should I be guarding you more than usual?~

~It's from looking at a pack of disorganized mecha going out to drive off an army of raiders with our sparkling among them,~ Axe replied. ~I'm fine.~

Dai Atlas snorted in amusement. ~I know your pain,~ he agreed as they walked, rather than marched, out of the Citadel with the majority of the Knights. The bulk of the raiders' army, more than a thousand strong, milled about on the far side. ~Though not the pain of being on the side that uses swords against blasters.~

~Makes me glad we're both so heavily armored. Can take more hits before taking real damage.~ Axe eyed the raiders, taking note of the visible weapons as well as the conditions of the enemy mecha. Heavier armed than most, state of repair was mixed, as was armor and exact weapons.

For a long, confusing moment both sides simply stared, judging and gauging, before the raiders opened fire.

"Knights of Light, defend the Citadel!" Sovereign Vanguard's bellow could be heard easily across the entire plane.

The Knights answered with a roar, charging forward with blades bared, the front ranks dodging and ducking blaster fire. The raiders, having tangled with Knights before, were less enthusiastic about closing to sword distance, trying to scurry out of their way. Their lack of group cohesion was their worst enemy at that point, fouling them up long enough for the Knights to close in.

Axe leaned over Wing to sneak a quick kiss from Dai Atlas before adding his voice to the battle chorus, charging forward. Wing echoed him, staying between the two larger mechs, his plasma swords flaring blue in his hands.

Dai Atlas grinned with a feral rumble and sheathed both his swords when he realized that 'don't kill' did not mean 'don't maim'. Standing chest and shoulders above all but the largest raiders, the giant folded his wings backwards and down to lay along his back and dove into the fray with a joyful abandon of flying fists and pedes.

The first raider to encounter Axe was not the largest of mecha. Pale greenish optics went wide as the raider saw the black behemoth coming his way, and focused trying to scoot back out of range. Axe swung his ax like a club, using the flat of the blade to send the raider flying.

"Nice shot!" Wing ducked under a raider's rust-edged weapon, his plasma blade flaring as it dug into a shoulder joint, rendering the arm useless. Another raider tried to sneak up on the white jet, only to be spotted from the corner of a blue optic and sent helm over aft into a small cluster of enemies, tripping them.

Axe took the chaos, and his mate's joyful embrace of it, to work his way further from Dai Atlas. He needed to be far enough away to fake an injury if he couldn't find a raider tough enough to give him a good fight. Fortunately his focus on finding the deadly looking ones settled perfectly with what they were doing: protecting the less experienced and lighter armored Knights from the hardest fights.

From the corner of his optic, Axe spotted a large raider just as the other mech sent one of the Knights skidding across the metal ground, striking sparks and leaving streaks of paint behind. Turning in that direction, Axe announced himself by letting out a nearly feral roar. Ax ready, the black and gold mech charged.

The green mono-optic giant bellowed in return and charged as well, focusing on Axe with his fits raised. All around their path raiders and Knights scattered; no one wished to get between the two giants.

Blue optics narrowed as Axe focused on his enemy, barely noticing everyone else getting out of the way. Holding his ax at the ready, the black and gold triple changer sought out a weak point on the raider's massive frame, concentrating on the joints. Even though he tried, he didn't manage to dodge, and realized far too late that he wasn't _just_ getting punched.

A massive explosion torn into the armor of his lower chest, sending shockwaves through all his internals despite the finest dampening and armor system the empire had developed only a few hundred vorns before. Belatedly his sensors warned him that this mech had a prototype gravity generator in that fist that spawned a point singularity on impact.

Growling, Axe clamped down on the pain, locking onto a target. His ax flicked out, striking sparks off his enemy's armor. Thick plating parted only with great reluctance under the weapon's razor edge and massive momentum.

The green giant with the single enormous red optic bellowed in outrage and opened up two sides of his chest armor to unleash dozens of missiles at once, not caring in the least that he was less than a pace away from his target.

The phrase Axe let loose upon seeing the missiles made some of the nearby Knights and raiders give him an astonished look. He swiped at one of the missiles, causing it to blow as it exited its launcher, probably pissing the massive raider off even more. Trying to stay away from the massive fists, Axe circled, his ax catching an arm joint and slicing into the circuitry.

This time the giant grabbed the ax just below the blade and yanked.

Not wanting to be jerked off his feet and thrown, Axe reluctantly released the weapon. Drawing his short swords, he snarled at his opponent, optics flaring.

The green giant snarled back and charged, his fists raised. This time his explosive blow impacted with Axe's left shoulder, driving the black giant to his knee.

Axe let loose another interesting profanity, taking the opportunity to aim one swordblade at a knee joint. Lurching back to his pedes as quickly as he could as his massive opponent reeled in pain and recalibrated his balance, Axe flexed his shoulder briefly as he searched for a new angle of attack.

When he was charged again, he saw his main advantage: he had a processor capable of more than 'point and pound' orders.

Blue optics narrowed to slits. Axe darted out of the way, twisting to get behind his opponent. Quick slashes of his swords left oozing, sparking gashes across the raider's side and back but not cutting deep enough to sever anything vital.

A bellow of pure rage exploded and the raider twisted around faster than Axe anticipated was possible. Two huge fists came down together, catching Axe across the chest, only a handspan above his spark chamber.

The black mech staggered back, collapsing to one knee. That blow had been one too many. Static began to obscure his vision. Before he collapsed, he could hear his mate's distinctive roar drawing closer and briefly had time to muse that the trial may not be over a fake after all.

"Lugnut smash stupid mech," the green one-opticked mech smirked before turning to face a mech that was actually bigger than he was.

And far, far angrier.

Lugnut turned and bellowed back at the blue mech. Raising his fists, he charged, relishing the thought of pounding the slag out of this blue stranger.

Behind the now-oblivious green raider, several other Knights converged on Axe, picking the black and gold triple changer off the ground, making a beeline for the medical station.

They were noted by Dai Atlas with a sense of relief, even as his focus remained on his opponent. His short swords were out again, though he had no intention of using them as swords. He knew the thickness of this mecha's armor. Instead he flared his wings open and drove forward, angling his sword like an extension of his punch, much as he'd done to Wing, only with far more control.

Lugnut bellowed in rage as the blade went right through his armor. One massive fist lashed out, aiming for the blue mech's chest only to find the other blade flicking up and around to slice his hand completely off. Dai Atlas braced his pedes and pulled his sword free with a twist, tearing a great swath of damage without cutting anything that would kill quickly.

This time the bellow was as much pain as blind fury. Utterly enraged, ignoring the energon and hydraulic fluids flowing from his wounds, Lugnut lunged, trying to use his own bulk to bring down the other mech. He forgot that said mech's mass was greater than his own.

Dai Atlas simply braced for the charge, took Lugnut's mass and momentum and threw him into a helm-first crash into the ground before slashing out with his swords to cut long, deep gashes into Lugnut's legs near his pedes.

Nearby Knights were watching in amazement, raiders in dread of facing this mech. They were discreetly inching away, not wanting to get into Dai Atlas' proverbial crosshairs.

Lugnut snarled as he attempted to get up, a fresh bellow of pain escaping as he tried to brace his severed wrist against the ground. His pedes were refusing to support him, the critical hydraulic lines cut. Twisting on the ground, he lashed out with his remaining fist, aiming at a blue and gold leg.

A leap, firing of powerful thrusters and downward slash severed the remaining hand from its arm before Dai Atlas landed on it with a heavy thud to crush it.

With both hands severed and his legs not working, energon pooling on the ground, Lugnut slumped down in a heap. He managed another snarl of rage up at the blue swordsmech, even if he could no longer strike out at his enemy.

::Wing, unless _we're_ going to repair him, deactivation is a mercy,:: Dai Atlas pinged his Daoshi after a glance confirmed that the white jet wasn't in a serious fight.

::Let him live,:: was the immediate response.

Immediately Dai Atlas braced a pede on Lugnut's upper back, pinning the giant in place. A precise slash of his blade sent the raider into immediate stasis, though it wasn't obvious unless you knew the signs very well that he hadn't just been deactivated.

::The raiders will collect their wounded later.:: Wing kicked an opponent in the face, staggering the raider long enough for a blue plasma sword to sever a wrist. Darting over to balance briefly on Dai Atlas' shoulder, Wing winced at the damage to the raider at his Initiate's pedes, then tugged lightly on a golden helm crest.

With a grunt that was more 'I know my function' than anything, Dai Atlas scanned the field for the next large, heavy target that was best suited for him to tackle.

Wing launched off the blue giant's shoulder, aiming for another knot of raiders and Knights. There were no shortage of opponents for Dai Atlas, either, as a small group of raiders charged in all at once, clearly believing they'd fare better than Lugnut had if they came at Dai Atlas en masse. Others were smarter, keeping distance and using heavy blasters. Which would have worked if they'd been powerful enough to do more than burn the ultra-heavy military armor.

Every time Wing got close enough to his Initiate to feel Dai Atlas' field, he got another dose of just how much the giant reveled in this. Yet it had the cleanness of joy that came from your core function when it matched your spark. The same joy Wing felt when he was skydancing at the very limits of his frame's tolerances.

Wing spared a chirr for Dai Atlas whenever he got close, choosing to stay in the vicinity of the larger blue mech. This was his first real battle, so he stayed relatively close as much to make sure he had help if he got in over his helm as to be right there when Hardwing installed the inhibitor in Axe to block the bond. He knew that Hardwing was up to his elbow in Axe's frame at that moment, searching for any severe damage that absolutely had to be repaired before he would install the inhibitor, but before the battle was out, Dai Atlas would believe he had lost his third bonded mate.

Warnings were pinging on Wing's HUD that he was 10% through his reserve tank when he felt it happen. He didn't share a spark-bond to either mech, but when Dai Atlas' bellow of loss reverberated through the field it carried far more than the simple harmonics of grief or anger. It carried _power_.

::Knights of Light. Retreat,:: Dai Atlas called out on their comm frequency, his tone that of pure authority.

Helms snapped up all over the battlefield, raiders scattering from the blue mech's immediate vicinity. Multiple pairs of Knight wings readied for takeoff if necessary. Wing whipped around, making a beeline for Dai Atlas.

Other Knights looked over at the blue mech in confusion, wondering just what was going on. Shouts of confusion rang out over the clash of sword against armor. Multiple pairs of optics turned to Vanguard for direction.

"Wing. Go. I will explain later!" Dai Atlas snapped at his adoptive creation.

The former priest's white optics flared in comprehension. ::Retreat!:: he roared over the comm and out loud. ::You too, Wing.::

Raiders stared in astonishment as Knights turned and bolted back toward the Citadel. The air was thick with fliers and airframes as they took flight, most vanishing inside the walls, the largest and most skilled perching atop the wall. Wing stared wide-opticked at Dai Atlas for a moment, then followed, clinging to the wall, wings trembling against his back.

They watched as Dai Atlas' voice rumbled out, carrying the power of his particular gift. Though the Knights on the wall heard the words he sang, they could feel that they were far enough away not to be subject to the _gift_ it carried to those closer.

Dai Atlas gave himself over to his gift, to the grief tearing through his spark, as every pain he had ever known, every loss, everything he had taken on to spare others, was forced upon those listening to his song.

Wing stared. Never before had he heard of anything like this before. He could hear the other Knights on the wall muttering in shock and amazement, wondering just what was going on. Those in the courtyard below milled about, trying to figure out exactly what they were hearing.

Those who could see the battlefield watched as raiders screamed, tearing at their own frames as they experienced the loss of bond after bond, the loss of creations, the loss of purpose. The words expressed it, but they _experienced_ it. Many tore out their own sparks. Others shot themselves. Some simply crumbled into heaps, twitching and whimpering.

There was utter silence from the watching Knights. All of them were as still as statues, optics wide with shock. None of them could believe what they were seeing.

Wing twitched, turning wide, pale optics on Vanguard, silently asking what was going on, and what would happen next.

::This ... is the will of Primus,:: the former priest responded the only way he knew how. He realized, now, that he should have expected this, should have read it in the giant's designation. He'd trained himself out of reading designations and in this case he regretted it. ::His designation means "Primus' Burden", Wing. This is his _gift_.::

::I don't understand.:: Wing turned his gaze back out to what had become a killing field. ::What is he _doing_?:: The white jet had heard much about the former General during his own walkabout, but never had he ever heard even a rumor of Dai Atlas having this kind of power.

::If I understand his designation correctly, he can relieve others of burdens by taken them as his own, and as he is doing now, he can inflict those burdens on others as well. The raiders are experiencing not just his pain, but all the pain he has taken on, all at once. I do not imagine many have the ability to withstand such an assault.::

::From the look of it, no. I will be astonished if any of the raiders survive this.:: Wing shivered at the thought, pulling his wings tighter and pulling his armor tight to his frame.

Marwir came up behind him and set a comforting hand on his shoulder even as her field wrapped around him, supporting. Wing leaned into her, still staring out over the field. His gaze lingered on Dai Atlas, wondering what would happen once the blue triple changer's song ceased. Would Dai Atlas return to the Citadel, or would he try to fly back to Iacon?

He had the better part of a joor to wonder before the grief-filled sounds died down, gradually reduced to a silence that matched the stillness of the battlefield. Only one mecha stood, the giant that had been singing, and he was as still as the rest.

Slowly, Dai Atlas dragged himself out of his near-trance and looked around at the devastation he had wrought. He didn't truly see it though. It was just another battlefield for him; one of millions he'd seen in his long existence. It wasn't even a particularly large or grisly battle. He was looking for his mate's ax. Once he picked it up he walked slowly towards the Citadel, before pausing and lifting his gaze to the Sovereign.

Only when the leader of the Circle of Light nodded and bade him to return did Dai Atlas continue to them.

Wing was off the wall as fast as his engines could get him down. He landed a short distance from the blue mech and paused, watching Dai Atlas, looking for any signal that would indicate if it was safe to approach or if he should keep his distance. Slender white wings quivered against his back. "Dai?"

The giant knelt, his grief radiating off him still as fresh pain poured into his awareness from his very spark. He reached out, offering without demanding, and very much wanting to embrace the only connection he had left to the living.

With a soft keen, Wing threw himself forward, pressing himself against Dai Atlas' armor as if trying to melt into it. He wrapped his arms around Dai Atlas' neck, burying his face against a blue shoulder.

The fliers watching from the wall relaxed slowly, dropping back to the ground in ones and twos. The other Knights kept a respectful distance, watching in silence as one of their own grieved the loss of a long bonded mate.

"I'm sorry Wing," Dai Atlas whispered as he held his adoptive creation tightly.

The white jet purred very softly, tightening his hold on the larger mech. He hated having to cause his Initiate, the mech who had adopted him, so much pain.

Tornado circled around as unobtrusively as he could, joining Vanguard. "What happens now?" he asked softly, glancing at the Sovereign.

"We wait until we know how he intends to handle his loss," Vanguard answered quietly, his wings shifting uneasily.

Wing tilted his helm until his golden optics met dulled red. "Sorry for what?" One wing shifted on his back, rubbing against Dai Atlas' arm. Dark fingers hooked into the armor of the giant's upper back, clinging to the metal.

"I will be leaving after I say goodbye to his frame," Dai Atlas nearly choked on his words. "I can't do this again. Four is too much. I just _can't_."

The jet's grip tightened, Wing letting out a keen of distress. "Why leave? Where would you go? Why?"

"To Iacon, to challenge the Prime," he said simply. "To do something useful with my remaining orns."

Wing's grip was tight enough to dent regular armor. "No!" His audial fins flattened to the sides of his helm, gold optics staring directly into red. "Why would you have to bond again? No one demands it of you. There is no law or rule that says you have to bond." Wing's optics flared.

"My spark demands it," Dai Atlas sighed. "Even more than it demands the sky. I need the balance the bond brings me."

If Wing's wings hadn't been held down by the larger mech's arms, they would have been flaring out in distress. "Why?" The jet's field reached out, expressing his distress at the very idea of losing both a very good friend and the only family he had.

Dai Atlas replied in the same way, sharing just a fraction of what this pain was, of how weary and out of balance his spark was. He _needed_ the youthful energy of a bondmate just to keep going and balance out the burden he carried from Primus as a gift.

Against Wing's back, his Great Sword thrummed, responding to its bearer's distress, hilt gem flaring bright blue. Wing keened softly, optics dimming. "I don't want you to go," he whispered. "The Circle will lose a promising Knight before he's had the chance to bond a Great Sword, and I will lose the mech I call 'creator'."

"You would have me exist a broken mech?" Dai Atlas forced Wing to look him in the optic.

Wing's jaw set stubbornly. "No," he admitted. "But I also don't want to lose you. You're the only real family I have."

"This is what battle is, what a warrior's existence means," Dai Atlas said gently as he attempted to disentangle himself enough to stand. "We all lose those important to us. It is the cycle of life."

Only with very great reluctance did Wing allow himself to be pried off, though he didn't let go entirely. His small dark hand clamped onto Dai Atlas' larger white one, clinging with all Wing's strength. His Initiate made no effort to dislodge this final contact. Indeed, he took strength from it for the walk to identify and deal with the funeral of his bonded, if Knights had funerals.

Wing had to jog to keep up with Dai Atlas' longer stride, but it was something he'd long since gotten used to. Other Knights got out of their way without a word, the crowd slowly dispersing to resume the normal life of the Citadel. The small white jet didn't look at anyone as he walked with Dai Atlas into the main building, toward the lift that led to the medical bay.

Redline was the one to greet them, his features grief-stricken and grim. "We did all we could," he apologized without explicitly lying.

"I know," Dai Atlas' voice was low, his field the unsteady grief-stricken one of a mech who's spark was crying for release from its prison of a frame. "I would say goodbye to his frame now."

"Dai Atlas ... he hadn't been repaired yet," Redline fidgeted in distress.

The shock that flickered across Dai Atlas' field and frame overwhelmed his grief for a moment.

Wing pressed his shoulder against Dai Atlas' leg, fingers tightening on the larger mech's hand. "There have probably been a lot of injured mechs to repair..."

"Why repair an empty shell?" the giant managed to stammer an explanation for his shock.

Redline stared up at Dai Atlas for a moment, shocked himself. "It's hard to say goodbye to a mangled frame, and interring one is not a peaceful rest. It's our way."

That was enough, and Dai Atlas inclined his helm in willing submission to the choice. If they wished to spend resources on an empty shell instead of recycling it because that was _their_ way, he would not object. "I would still say goodbye as he is, and return his ax."

"We will contact you when we are finished," Redline told the larger mech.

Large white and blue wings flared with a flicker of anger driven by his spark's crying, only to settle once more in submission. "Very well," he said stiffly before picking a spot out of the way on one wall near the door where he wouldn't be in the way and wearily sank down with a low thud.

Redline nodded, watching the large triple changer and the small white jet with him, then returned to the room where Axe lay.

Wing still refused to let go of Dai Atlas' hand, waiting for the blue mech to settle before pressing against Dai Atlas' plating again. Not knowing what to say, he simply clung, trying not to keen. The young jet's unease only increased as he noted graying at the very edges of some armor plates, barely visible but there. Biting his glossa to keep from spilling anything, he pressed as close to blue armor as he could. Wing could not wait for this to be over.

Lightly Dai Atlas stroked Wing's back. Red optics powered down, relaxing into the numbness that was the fallout of the broken bond and using his gift. His training as a Knight had helped him greatly in a way. He hadn't used his gift to inflict pain in ages because he knew he would never survive experiencing all that at once himself. Yet the very training that allowed him to finish the song only prolonged his final pain.

It hurt more than anything to think that he might extinguish here, offering nothing to the future when his spark abandoned his frame.

Wing leaned into the touch, pulling his wings closer to his back plating. The Great Sword he carried thrummed as Dai Atlas' fingers brushed over the blade, Too Pure For This World's energy field pulsing briefly against the former General's.

The young jet could feel the agony in his Initiate's field, and hated himself for having helped cause it. Hunching his shoulders, he turned his helm and buried his face against Dai Atlas' armor, trembling all over.

"Shu, little one," Dai Atlas crooned, trying to comfort him with touch and voice. "It will be all right, Wing. Primus comes for us all. Axe expired doing his _function_, protecting his home, which he loved. I intend the same, if I am allowed."

A thin wail answered him, Wing's armor pulling tight to his frame in clear distress. Shifting, Wing all but crawled into Dai Atlas' lap, curling into a ball, still trembling as he was petted and softly reassured.

The pair remained there, Wing eventually prodded into accepting a cube of energon after Dai Atlas had surrendered to recharge. Redline couldn't meet his optics, his field sympathetic.

It wasn't until the night shift had come and gone that Hardwing emerged from the surgery, still smeared with energon and half a dozen other fluids that were never meant to be outside a mecha's body.

"Wing?" Hardwing called the Knight's designation, seeking to rouse him without coming within range of the giant he was curled against.

The white mech stirred, raising his helm and blinking in the direction of the voice. Realizing who it was, he slowly uncurled, bracing himself against Dai Atlas' torso. "Hardwing."

"The repairs are complete. He can see his mate now," the medic said tiredly. "I will be in the medical washrack if you need me."

Wing nodded, shifting against the larger mech's torso. "Dai." The white jet patted Dai Atlas' helm, gently shaking his shoulder and trying his best to ignore the edges of gray that were now quite obvious. "Dai."

A low, incoherent sound escaped the giant before his optics reluctantly powered up. It took a moment for recognition to settle and longer for Dai Atlas to nod. "Yes?"

"Hardwing came out, finally. He said you can go in now." Wing slid off Dai Atlas' lap, getting to his pedes. The amount of gray showing on blue and white and black armor made him choke off a keen before it could escape.

Dai Atlas nodded and reached back with the hand not holding his mate's ax to use the wall to help him stand, help he clearly needed. He stood, braced against the wall, until he felt steady enough to move. Then he walked forward, slow and steady, the movement taking much of his attention.

Wing hovered, watching, wingtips twitching. Being a third Dai Atlas' size and only a fraction of his mass, there was nothing he could do to help. He trotted at the larger mech's side, keeping an optic on his Initiate. The surgery hadn't been cleaned yet. The look and smell of fluids filled the scene, the dimmed lights didn't help.

Only one frame was there, the one mech they had lost. Axe's huge frame was rebuilt, it _looked_ intact, unmarred by battle, but the gray color was so clearly wrong.

Dai Atlas let a sob escape, and gathered his strength to make the rest of the distance. It took both hands to lift the ax and rest the blade on Axe's chest. The effort to move Axe's arms so his fingers could be wrapped around the handle took longer, and by the time it was positioned to Dai Atlas' satisfaction the giant was grateful to sink to his knees next to the berth and rest his forehelm there.

Wing hung back, watching, his pinions and wings drooping. It was very hard to watch, to see how Dai Atlas carried himself. Biting his glossa to maintain his silence, the young jet stayed out of the way, letting the large blue mech have some space. After a few kliks of silence, his audials perked up on reflex as his Initiate began to speak. It only took a few words for him to realize that Dai Atlas was speaking, or perhaps singing, in Old Cybertronian.

That got Wing's attention. White audial fins flared out, pricking up as much as they could as he listened with curious interest. He couldn't understand a word of it; he only had a meager knowledge of Cybertron's ancient languages. This was not one he'd ever heard. Yet the cadence and sound was still fascinating. Perhaps he could get it translated sometime, if Dai Atlas didn't mind.

Abruptly the sounds stopped, leaving Dai Atlas simply staring at his mate. Wide, long wings moved up in a curious motion. Then the giant reached into his subspace for a cube of high grade and downed it quickly.

Despite the concentration, Wing had little doubt that it wouldn't even bring Dai Atlas up to full. Not after that battle.

Noting the curious wing flick, Wing blinked at the larger mech, making a curious sound. Still staying out of the way, Wing edged sideways a bit so he could see what was going on.

A second cube was consumed just as quickly, allowing Dai Atlas to move with his natural fluid grace. The ax was set with the blade on the floor and the long handle resting on the edge of the berth as Dai Atlas stood and _stared_. With methodical care and knowledge he manually opened Axe's chest plates.

White plating fluffed slightly. Wing's optics were fixed on Dai Atlas' every move. For orns he had been dreading what might happen when Dai Atlas found out what was going on. Moving slowly and carefully, the small white jet inched backward, closer to the wall. As far as he could tell, his Initiate was oblivious to him. He was far too fixed on the sight of his mate's brilliant, rich blue spark glowing inside a grayed frame.

Hands began to move, basic medical programming and generations' worth of familiarity with that spark and the systems that supported it guiding Dai Atlas to what did not belong. A low, feral growl of rage escaped Dai Atlas as he quickly removed the inhibitor and flung it across the room, crushing the device on impact.

White armor promptly clamped down to Wing's frame. He skittered backed as far as he could get, making sure he had a clear path to the door if he needed it. When his back clanked against the wall, Wing tried very hard to make himself part of that wall.

The noise was enough to draw Dai Atlas' attention and he whirled around, his wings flaring wide in a protective shield of the mate that was still unable to move. Deep red optics narrowed, locking onto Wing.

Wide, wary golden optics met red, but there was no blame in them and Dai Atlas relaxed slightly before turning back to his mate. Wing stayed where he was, not trusting that Dai Atlas' relative calm would hold. He had seen the depths of the larger mech's grief, and over the centuries he had learned how explosive Dai Atlas' temper could be.

It took Wing a breem or more to get his vocalizer to work. His voice was soft and cautious, and it actually squeaked when he spoke. "Dai?"

"Hardwing has explaining to do," his voice was low and cold, promising much pain for the medic. "That was a spark inhibitor."

The flinch and the squeak at that very loudly hinted that Wing himself had been expecting some of that promised pain. Wing inched a little farther away.

"Wing?" Dai Atlas turned his helm to look at his creation, his mentor, wanting desperately not to believe what he'd heard. Air huffed from Axe's vents as the black mech finished booting, blue optics coming online. His frame was still gray, displaying without doubt that it was done artificially.

The young white mech would not look Dai Atlas in the optic, wings tight to his back. That was as good as a shouted confession that he did have something to do with the situation.

"Why?" Dai Atlas' tone was pained, the betrayal one that went past anything he wished to punish Wing for.

"It wasn't my decision," Wing answered, looking down. "I hated my part in this. But it had to be done. There was no way around it."

Axe's fingers curled around Dai Atlas'. ~Dai. Don't hurt him.~

That snapped Dai Atlas around to face his mate with wide, shocked optics. ~_You_ knew?~

~Wing arranged it with me,~ Axe confirmed, slowly pushing himself into a sitting position and making a face at his grayed plating. ~I knew what it would do to you. But it's a vital part of what we are now.~

"Hazing," Dai Atlas sighed, resigned to the fact that some things never changed. "So be it."

Wing's wings and pinions flared. "All Initiates must face one final major trial when they reach the transition phase. You, Dai Atlas, have reached that stage where you are in the process of transitioning from Initiate to full Knight. I had to go through it, you just went through it, Axe will have to go through it. Though it's going to be harder on Atl now that Axe knows what's coming at him. Normally the Initiate has no idea they are being tested until the trials are over. But then, it has been a very long time since a bonded pair was trained at the same time."

"What purpose does this trial serve?" Dai Atlas asked, still spark-weary and beginning to feel the effects of protocols he hadn't known in a long time.

"A test of training, of control, of dedication to the Order. To make sure an Initiate is ready to become a Knight. It is the last great challenge they have to face as an Initiate." Wing finally looked up, meeting Dai Atlas' optics. The look in golden optics indicated just how much Wing hated what he'd had to do. He met the dull red optics of a mech that had surrendered in a way; a look of great disappointment.

"Wing. When is one of us expected somewhere?" Dai Atlas' voice was as tired as his appearance, but the grip on Axe as he helped his mate stand spoke of the strength he still had in him.

"Not for some orns. Exactly how many, I don't know." The look in Dai Atlas' optics made Wing shrink in on himself, his own optics dimming with guilt. "But not anytime soon."

"Good," Dai Atlas said as he all but pulled Axe towards the surgery door.

Wing scooted out of arm's reach, watching the pair leave before following them out. He kept his distance as they made their way to the quarters the pair shared with their Daoshi. Along the way, Knights who weren't in-the-know stopped and stared at Axe, taking in the very-much-alive triple changer and the paint the color of death. Axe ignored all of them, leaning against his mate's shoulder.

Once the trio reached their quarters, Wing skirted around the two larger mechs and vanished into his own room.

~I'm sorry, love,~ Axe murmured.

~I know,~ he sighed, leaning in as well as he guided Axe to the washrack. ~I will regret whatever part I will play in your hazing.~

Axe rested his helm briefly on Dai Atlas' shoulder, sending affection through the bond. Blue optics ran over the larger triple changer's frame, narrowing slightly as he noted the still-visible gray on the plate edges. ~Are you all right?~

~No,~ Dai Atlas admitted as he turned on the solvent spray. ~After you were gone, I sang to share my grief, my gift.~

Axe stared at him, armor fluffing. ~You... what?~ He stepped under the solvent spray, not taking his optics off his mate. ~How many?~

~Almost all,~ Dai Atlas picked up a stiff brush and a shampoo with abrasives for stripping paint. ~There might have been a score that didn't end themselves.~

The usually black and gold mech took Dai Atlas' hand, knowing what kind of toll the larger mech's gift took on his mate, even though he himself had never witnessed it. Leaning forward to sneak a kiss that was returned with relief and welcome, he flared his armor, presenting it for the gray paint to be stripped. He could feel their bond thrumming with the need to merge and reestablish itself after the inhibitor, but he could also feel his mate's desperate need to get the death-gray off.

Strong hands scrubbed hard, a harsh sensation as the alien color was stripped off. Hardline had done a good job. It was not an easy layer to remove, but gradually death-gray was stripped down to natural metal.

Axe sighed in relief as the gray paint came off, exposing the bare metal underneath. He'd seen far too much of the real thing, and was only too glad to get it off his frame. As more and more of the gray came off, Axe started to purr very softly.

"Soon," Dai Atlas leaned in for a kiss before kneeling to work on Axe's legs. "Soon. I feel it as much as you do."

Axe returned the kiss, watching his mate, reaching out to lightly stroke over the center crest of Dai Atlas' helm. "Won't be soon enough for me, my love."

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When Wing darted into his room, he wasn't expecting anyone to be there, much less for it to be Atl lounging on his berth.

"As soon as they're in the washrack, you're coming to my room," Atl said with a simple firmness that expected no argument.

The small jet nodded, venting a massive sigh. His wings drooped behind him as he sat next to Atl on the berth. "That was one of the worst things I have ever gone through, if not _the_ worst."

"You did well though, and Vanguard is _very_ pleased with how he reacted," Atl said with a softer tone and hugged his friend. "He remained rational through the entire event. That is an amazing accomplishment."

Wing leaned into the embrace, his optics dimming. "I might have done well, but I hated it. I could _see_ Dai's plating turning gray. And I'm not sure I'll be welcome anywhere in his immediate vicinity anytime soon."

"He'll recover now, once his spark is whole again," Atl hugged him before gently pulling Wing to his pedes. "Come on. Let's get in my tub. Give them some time to recover. Once his penance is done and he's bonded to his own Great Sword he'll forgive you. I'm sure of it."

Wing poked his helm out to make sure the two large mechs were nowhere in sight before following Atl over to the taller grounder's room, keeping Atl's frame between himself and the Initiates' room. "I hope so."

"You've never been this uncertain before," Atl glanced back at his friend as the door to his quarters slid closed behind them. "What happened to my friend that always felt he could make something work out?"

Wing rubbed a hand over his face. "It's been a very bad orn. A lot to process."

"I don't doubt it," Atl said gently and tugged Wing to the deep hot oil pool he'd surrendered a fair chunk of his spare space to. It was large enough for two mecha his size, and he settled into the hot oil with a pleasured groan. "You'll feel better after some recharge and meditation, just like they will when their bond is restored and they're rested."

"Might take more than just normal meditation," the smaller mech admitted. "I might need you to help me with a binding." A rough purr escaped as he sank to his lower lip in the hot oil, flaring his armor and letting the welcome heat into every crevice.

"You know I'll be there for you," Atl said sincerely. "Whenever you are ready ... but please recharge with me first. It's been a _long_ few orns."

The jet smiled at him. "Thank you. And yes, it has been. I really don't feel like recharging alone tonight."

"I don't doubt it," Atl said with clear understanding. "You won't have to. I'm just about in the same place you are with Axe."

"Axe is on to us now... That's not going to make it any easier." Wing shifted, flaring one wing under the hot oil and fluttering it to get the oil into all the joints. "Couldn't be helped, though."

"He knows it's coming, but not what form it will take. I'll be very surprised if he realizes his trial before it is over," he settled deeper into the hot oil with another pleasured sound. "That we don't need his mate's collusion will help as well."

"That is true." Wing folded the first wing and stretched out the other, the surface of the oil rippling as the appendage fluttered underneath. He was relaxing in the welcome heat, a tiny purr escaping.

"You're welcome in my berth as long as you need the company," Atl said. "Assuming that Thorn doesn't collect you soon," he teased about Wing's first and most regular lover.

Wing let out a slightly weak chuckle. "Considering that now I'm used to cuddling with not one but two larger mechs, if I'm in here when he comes looking I might pull him in with us."

"As long as you don't pull Dart into the berth, you know I won't mind," Atl laughed easily, causing the shimmering oil to ripple around him.

That got a stronger chuckle. "I haven't been with Dart for vorns. Besides, he's smaller than I am. I'm used to larger mechs."

"You are such a size queen," Atl snickered. "Only you would think taking _Dai Atlas_ was a good idea."

"He was very careful with me, and it was an incredible experience," the white jet retorted. "We only did that once, though. I found out later on that both he and Axe had pretty much adopted me."

"Worth the loss of those spikes?" Atl asked, both teasing and honestly curious.

"I've only regretted it a little." Wing grinned over at the red mech. He was behaving more like his old self, though the new problem that plagued him was still lurking under the surface and they both knew it.

"You never did say how you found out," Atl prodded, knowing it was a bright moment in Wing's existence.

"I'd dropped into recharge curled up on Dai Atlas' chest, was woken up by a shift in the warmth. Found out I'd been moved onto the berth while they were getting busy." Wing grinned at the memory. "They are very hot together. After they were finished, I was wound up enough to have very willingly taken either of them. Dai Atlas told me that they wouldn't be doing that anymore because they had adopted me as their creation, and they didn't interface with their creations. That revelation blew any thoughts of interfacing right out of my processor."

"Wow, I didn't think anything could do that," Atl grinned, his field expressing how pleased he was for his friend. "No wonder you were floating on clouds for orns."

"Even they were teasing me about it," Wing added, optics glowing brightly. "They hadn't seen anymech that bouncy in a long time."

"I don't think _anyone_ has," Atl grinned even more. "You cost a lot on the betting pool that you'd finally fallen helm over pedes in love. It's a good look on you, by the way."

Wing made a face. "Not yet, I haven't. Maybe someday, and I hope what I find is similar to what Dai and Axe have." He lifted am optic rim at Atl. "Betting pool?"

"Well, when you started acting like you'd lost your processor in the best way, more than a few Knights bet that you'd found your _one_ like you're always going on about wanting."

Wing shook his helm. "I haven't found my _one_ yet." Folding his wings, he sidled around the tub to lean against Atl's shoulder.

A strong arm slid around him to draw him closer and Atl nuzzled him. "You will. He's out there somewhere and Primus will cross your paths."

The white jet returned the nuzzle, adding a purr. "I certainly hope so. But it may take a long time."

"Or they may stumble to our door tomorrow," Atl kissed Wing's audial fin, his field questioning if Wing wanted to interface or simply relax.

Wing turned into the kiss, nipping at Atl's lower lip. "True. We'll have to wait and see." One hand wandered down Atl's chestplate, tracing the contours of the red grounder's armor. A low hum of pleasure greeted the attention and Atl replied with a hand along Wing's near wing before drawing the smaller mech into his lap.

Wing eagerly settled onto Atl's lap, wings pressing into the red mech's hands. He deepened the kiss, hands heading for the most sensitive spots in reach, mostly along Atl's collar. The red mech moaned deeply and focused on the slender wings and where they attached to Wing's back. The heat of the oil increased their internal temperature and made the slide of plating all the more sensual.

White wings flared out to their full span, exposing the joints and seams and the control surfaces. A deep purr threaded into the kiss as the joins of wing to back were touched, Wing rubbing himself against Atl's plating, shifting his hips against the red mech's.

Atl broke the kiss to nibble along Wing's throat, teasing cables and tubing. "Tell me what you want," he demanded with a deep rumble.

"You." Wing leaned his helm back to give Atl more access to his throat, sliding his fingers into the seams of red armor. One hand wandered down between them to stroke over Atl's spike cover, tracing the rim teasingly. It slid back smoothly, exposing the spike housing and the tip poking out to Wing's wandering fingers.

"You'll have me," Atl moaned and dug his fingers into wing joints, his denta sliding down a main energon line in Wing's throat.

Wing let out a soft mew, his fingers dipping into Atl's spike housing, stroking over the tip of the red mech's spike. His wings shivered slightly. The white jet's valve cover slid open, a shiver running up and down his back as the hot oil caressed the sensitive platelets.

Atl's hands slid down Wing's back as his spike responded to the touch, pressurizing and expanding into the hot oil and skilled fingers. He squeezed Wing's aft and guided him forward to settle Atl's spike at the entrance to Wing's valve. White hips shifted, settling into place above Atl's spike, wiggling to rub the tip of the grounder's spike against the soft platelets. Wing moaned at the sensation, leaning forward to apply his own lips and glossa to the elegant lines of Atl's helm.

With a slow, smooth movement Atl guided Wing's hips down, gradually forcing the oil out of the cavity as his spike pressed inward, stretching the jet gently. Wing moaned softly, his valve calipers rippling against Atl's spike. Dark fingers slid into armor seams, one hand lifting to work into the red mech's shoulder armor.

"You feel good," Atl moaned as he settled fully hilted inside his friend. His hands moved up Wing's back to the wing joints while he continued to mouth Wing's throat.

Wing mumbled something unintelligible, wings stretching out to their full span. He tilted his helm slightly to the side, shifting his hips over Atl's and rubbing the red grounder's spike against the sensor nodes lining the jet's valve. In reply Atl rolled his hips upward, driving the tip against the thick clusters of sensors at the end of Wing's valve.

A moan escaped the white jet. Wing trembled for a moment, then began to move his hips over Atl's, the hot oil rippling around them. Gold optics dimmed as the white mech concentrated on what he was doing and the pleasure they generated for each other. He was never shy for pleasure and right now the sensuous slide and pressure was even more welcome than usual.

Atl's field wrapped around him, pulsed inside him and meshed with his own to share the rapidly building pleasure-charge.

The sound Wing made was half soft cry and half mew. His own hands worked their way over Atl's frame, going directly for the seams and gaps hiding the most sensitive circuitry. He picked up the pace, merging his field with Atl's, tilting his helm to nip along the grounder's helm crest.

A deep, resonant groan escaped Atl as his hands moved down to Wing's hips once more to assist in his thrusts, pulling the jet down as he thrust up. Electricity began to dance along their frames, charging the oil they were in as well as jumping directly across the small gaps between their frames.

Wing vented heavily, moaning softly into each thrust, wingtips trembling as the building charge prickled along his sensor net and nipped at his systems. Leaning his helm down, he caught Atl's lips in a fiery kiss as the building charge broke over him. That was enough to tip Atl over the limit and he shuddered, moaning into the kiss as his overload triggered a hot rush of transfluid into Wing's valve. It wasn't as warm as the oil, but it was thick and heavily charged when it crashed into the sensitive nodes at the top of the valve.

Wing keened into the kiss, his hands briefly tightening on red armor, his hips bucking against Atl's. White wings trembled as the cascading excess charge locked up his frame for a few kliks. Once his frame unlocked, Wing leaned against Atl, resting his helm against a red shoulder, disinclined to move as Atl stroked his back.

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Wing peeked out of his room, checking to make sure the coast was clear before easing out and heading for the washrack. It was early, too early for anyone but the real morning mechs to be up and about voluntarily. This was one of the few times of the orn that Wing could use the washrack without running into either Dai Atlas or Axe. Since the end of Dai Atlas' final trial, the white jet had all but turned into a ghost when the two large triple changers were around, visible as a quick flicker of white before he disappeared from sight. He had been actively avoiding them for some orns now, fearing that the relationship he'd had with them had been damaged beyond repair.

The coast was clear. Sighing to himself, Wing slipped into the washrack, heading for the rack built to accommodate his frame. The hot solvent was a welcome rain, washing off the remains of the lubricant and transfluid from the night before as he lost himself in Thorn's embrace. He wasn't immune to the looks he received at his continued odd behavior, especially when they began to come from Vanguard. He couldn't help it though. His binding meditation had brought him to terms with what he needed to deal with, he wasn't _afraid_ of the giants anymore, he didn't feel guilty about doing what had to be done. Yet it had done little to ease the way his spark cried at what he was sure he had lost. The pain would not fester now, but it was far from done.

His back to the washrack door, Wing picked up a brush and began scrubbing his plating, getting rid of the streaks of black marring his white finish, flaring his armor to get at all of it. The young jet was oblivious to his surroundings, completely sure it was too early for anyone else to be up and moving. All his attention was on what he was doing.

He didn't even notice the shadow pass over the washrack room door or the steps of a large mech coming up quietly behind him.

"You've been avoiding me," a deep, rich voice rolled over his entire frame.

Wing jumped, dropping the brush as he whirled, staring up at the large mech who had appeared behind him. "Dai Atlas!"

The jet had been calling the larger mech by his full designation rather than either of the shortened variations since the trial had ended, something he hadn't done in vorns.

"Yes. You've been avoiding me," Dai Atlas said as he knelt to be more on optic level with the mech he considered his creation.

The jet shifted his feet, dropping his gaze briefly. "I wasn't sure I was still welcome around you," he admitted.

A huge finger tipped Wing's chin up. "I think I would like to have _words_ with those who ordered you built," he rumbled with a displeased flick of long wings. "You did as you were ordered to do. I do not fault you for that."

Golden optics blinked up into red. "I wasn't sure. Necessary or not, the trial caused you a great deal of pain." A faint smile appeared on the jet's face. "If you ever do manage to catch up with those who ordered my sparking, can I watch?"

"You never tried to find out," Dai Atlas said with a distinct note of disapproval. "And yes, if I catch them, you can watch."

Wing cringed slightly. "I was as much of a mess as you were. Having had to put you through that left me with so much guilt... And the fear that I had lost the only family I have was just making things worse. I finally got Atl to help me with a binding while you were undergoing your penance."

"That was over orns ago," Dai Atlas frowned. "You are our _creation_, Wing. I realize you have little grasp of what that means and no reason to figure it out. You could have at least _tried_ to have a meal with us and feel the situation out if you couldn't simply ask."

Wing's optics dropped, the young jet shuffling his pedes slightly. After a moment of indecision, he eased closer to the larger mech. "I'm sorry."

"Now, is that all of why you've been hiding?" Dai Atlas lifted an optic ridge.

"Yeah." Wing looked away for a moment, turning off the forgotten shower. White armor fluffed out, wings wiggling to shake off droplets of solvent. Turning back to Dai Atlas, he cautiously stepped forward, leaning against the larger mech's chestplate.

"Then come and snuggle," Dai Atlas scooped Wing up, much as he had that first night alone after Axe had become an Initiate. "We've missed your warmth."

Wing purred softly, curling into Dai Atlas' arms and cuddling into his chest, letting his optics dim as he rested his helm against the larger mech's plating. He barely noticed when Dai Atlas stood up again.

Axe lifted his helm as his mate returned, blue optics dimly lit, the black mech barely awake. A rumble of welcome left his vocalizer as his recharge-hazed optics caught the white shape in Dai Atlas' arms. Wing trilled in happy response as Dai Atlas knelt on the berth and settled down, curling to put Wing between him and Axe while still allowing plenty of contact with his mate.

"Silly jetling," Axe murmured as he powered down again, content to recharge the rest of the morning. "You're our creation."

The young jet responded with an apologetic chirp, settling into the welcome feeling of two warm frames against him. Resting his helm against blue armor, Wing settled into recharge. A bare klik later, he was purring.


	10. The Choosing

**Fandom**: Transformers G1  
**Author**: gatekat, ultrarodimus on LJ  
**Pairing**: Axe/Dai Atlas  
**Rating**: PG-13  
**Codes**: Slash, Historical Setting, Knights of Light, Bonding  
**Summary**:  
**Disclaimer**: The authors are only playing with their own twisted muses. Transformers belong to Hasbro. Fandom-side, check the inspirations page (gatekat-fics .livejournal 290 .html). We draw from a ton of amazing stories and authors you should read.

Kneeling to the Sword 10: The Choosing  
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Axe was fidgeting, something that most residents of the Citadel associated with the excitable Wing rather than the calm black and gold triple changer. Nervousness and unease was seeping through the bond he shared with Dai Atlas. The big triple changer was more nervous than he had been in a long time and not even his mate's blanket of soothing calm could help much.

This was the orn where Axe and his bonded mate would be Knighted and become full members or the Circle of Light. But first, they would be introduced to the unbonded Great Swords in the sword vault at the center of the Citadel. There they would choose their Great Swords... or be chosen by them, as Wing had implied. Axe had always been unnerved and more than a little disturbed by the weapons, and wasn't quite sure what to think about bonding to one of them himself.

"I don't think I can," Axe admitted to Atl when his Daoshi placed a hand on his shoulder as he knelt in meditation. "I can't settle."

"It will be all right," Atl assured him, his voice low and calm. "Everyone is nervous the orn they are Knighted by one aspect or another."

Blue optics wandered to the hilt showing over the red Knight's helm, its medium blue gem glittering in the overhelm lights. "Some aspects more than others..."

"While your mate is most unsettled by the vote," Atl smiled, his field reassuring and supportive. "Do you trust your spark?"

Axe nodded. "I do. But that doesn't make me any less nervous. Especially about things I still don't understand."

Atl patted his shoulder. "You will soon," he promised. "Simply trust your spark. It will respond to the Great Sword that is right for you. Come. It is time."

The black triple changer got to his pedes, fluffing polished and shining gold-and-white-trimmed armor in an attempt to properly settle it. Trying to keep a tight lid on his nervousness, he followed Atl out, glancing once more over at his mate and the white jet almost dancing with nerves next to the calm blue mech.

Then he was focused on his Daoshi and the path he'd rarely taken before. Initiates did not enter the rooms at the center of the complex unless they were being led to the penance chambers. He wasn't headed there this orn, but to a space much deeper down. At the door that marked the restricted areas the Sovereign Vanguard joined them, taking the lead.

Axe eyed the area, the section where no Initiate was permitted and even the full Knights rarely went. The armor on his shoulders and upper back ruffled nervously, though he managed to keep the rest in place as the Sovereign and his Daoshi led him to the vault, where the unbonded Great Swords waited.

The Sovereign palmed open a thick door, revealing a room lit only by the glow of the Great Swords' gems. While most were blue, red was common and a variety of other colors glimmered into a muted general light. There was nothing else in the room. Only a score of Great Swords hanging vertically on the rounded wall of the circular space.

"Knight Atl has explained what you are to do?" Vanguard leveled his gaze on the larger mech.

Axe's gaze was fixed through the door, his optics gliding over the arrayed Great Swords. He could see the muted rainbows of light playing over the walls, shed from the hilt gems of the great blades. "He has."

"Then you may begin."

Axe inhaled deeply, x-venting slowly. Blue optics dimmed as he turned them off, allowing himself to be led to the first Great Sword. Fingers brushed lightly over his arm before he heard retreating pedefalls, then he lifted his hand to touch the gem of the first Great Sword.

It pulsed gently against his field, warm and friendly and rather curious as the two fields briefly engaged each other. It was a sensation not unlike his first contact with Wing's Great Sword. Friendly, but containing a firm refusal.

Axe trailed his fingers over the wall until it encountered the angular hilt of the next Great Sword in the line. His fingertips brushed over the intricate engravings around the gem's setting before settling against the jewel itself. Venting softly, Axe extended his field. The fire licked at his field was harsh and aggressive like no Knight Axe had encountered, but with the familiar feel of many youthful frontline warriors.

The black and gold mech greeted the Great Sword politely, feeling its refusal of him before moving away from it. A Great Sword like that would definitely not be a good match for him. His hand trailed over the wall briefly before finding the hilt of the next Great Sword, slowly working his way along the line. Most were calm and friendly, much like the Knights he'd met.

Half a dozen into the circle he felt a field reach out for him before he touched the weapon. Calm. Even. Steady. Almost cool.

~You. Mine.~ A strong voice caressed him across their mingled fields.

Axe paused, brushing his fingers over the hilt. ~Who are you?~ He wanted to look, but kept his optics turned off, tracing the hilt with his hand.

~Sentry of Balance.~

The large mech lingered for a long moment, reluctantly removing his hand to continue his slow circuit of the vault, greeting each Great Sword in turn. Some of them felt very old, older than he, others young, some feeling like they had been just forged. All of them greeted him in turn, all with polite but firm refusal in their fields. None of them resonated with him so well as the one that has introduced itself to him.

Finally reaching the end of the circle, by the door, Axe inhaled deeply, blindly making his way back to where he had begun and feeling his way back to the Great Sword that had spoken to him.

His spark thumped at the return, answering the pulse of Sentry of Balance. It felt good, soothing in a way not unlike when his mate was in a good mood.

A dark hand closed around the hilt, slowly drawing the Great Sword from the brackets in which it rested. Backing toward the door, Axe finally onlined his optics and looked down at the Great Sword that had chosen him. A rich purple gem glittered at him, set in a beautifully crafted hilt. He knew this one was physically little different than any other Great Sword, and yet it was special all the same. It was _his_.

"What is the designation of the Great Sword?" Vanguard asked, snapping Axe's attention away from his new weapon.

"Sentry of Balance," Axe answered, carrying it out into the well-lit hall so he could get a better look at it. His fingertips traced the setting of the gleaming jewel, running along the intricate glyphs engraved along the blade itself. "Its designation is Sentry of Balance."

Atl smiled brilliantly and Vanguard nodded with a pleased acceptance. "Then come. It is time to finalize the bond."

Axe looked up, optics narrowing slightly. "'Finalize'?" he echoed as he followed the pair to another door nearby.

"A Great Sword and its bearer are _bonded_," Atl spoke up. "Right now you are merely lovers who know you will spend your lives together. To be bonded, you must bond."

Vanguard nodded and palmed open the door. "It is unlikely to be as sensual as your previous bondings, however the fundamentals are the same."

"I can be there with you, or I can wait out here," Atl said.

Blue optics narrowed. "So it _is_ a spark bond." He looked at Atl, tilting his helm toward the door as he followed Vanguard inside.

The leader of the Knights of Light motioned Axe to kneel on the padding on one side of the room while Atl positioned himself quietly near the far wall. Axe's Daoshi would witness this with great pride, but it was not his place to be part of it.

"To bond, you must expose your spark and bring Sentry of Balance's gem within the corona," Vanguard explained calmly after the door closed. "Do not bring the gem into your spark itself no matter how much you may desire to."

Black armor fluffed and settled as Axe steeled himself, blocking the bond with his mate and blocking out Dai Atlas' curious eavesdropping. He parted his chestplates, the rich blue light of his spark shining out, glinting in the purple depths of Sentry of Balance's gem as he brought the Great Sword closer. Long familiar with merging on all levels, this one, technically only a surface merge, came easily.

Yet when he touched Sentry of Balance's resonance, the large gem within his corona, his vents hitched sharply at the flood of sensations it unleashed in him. The powerful will housed in the Great Sword called to his spark with sweet promises of the eternal bliss, peace and balance that could be theirs with a deeper merge. Here, shallow though the merge was, he knew the offer was true.

Axe trembled, his plating rattling. That siren song was very, very hard to resist. But resist the triple changer did, no matter how his spark insisted otherwise. He held Sentry of Balance's jewel in his spark's corona for several long kliks before forcing himself to pull it away.

Black chestplates closed. Axe braced one hand on the floor, venting heavily, plating flaring and resettling restlessly. "Primus," was all he could get out, looking at the long blade that was now _his_ Great Sword as it was clutched in his other hand. Absently he was aware of Atl's _squeal_ of relief-delight and realized that _this_ was actually the final trial; whether one had the will to control the Great Sword that chose you, or if you would be controlled by it.

"You have done well," Vanguard's voice came closer, offering a hand to Axe if he wished assistance in standing. "Few have the will to resist the Sentry of Balance. It is an old, stubborn blade."

"Now bonded to an old, stubborn mech," Axe wisecracked, accepting the assistance and trying not to pull Vanguard off-balance as he lurched upright. Blue optics turned to take in Atl, lifting an optic rim at his Daoshi. "And _you_ were channeling Wing with that little squeal, my friend."

"I may act like a steady old mecha, but I'm younger than he is," Atl chuckled, not really objecting to the statement. "You now know what everyone to bears a Great Sword does. I could have come in here to watch you turn gray," he said seriously. "Especially with _that_ Great Sword. It's taken more than its share of sparks in this room."

Axe regarded the Great Sword with respectful wariness for a moment and felt it pulse back that it wouldn't try again. "I guess it takes an old, headstrong mech to tame an old, headstrong sword." He braced himself against the wall, feeling the connection points that had been installed on his back scraping against the surface. "I think I'm going to recharge for a decaorn after this..."

"I recommend at least an orn or two," Vanguard smiled at his newest Knight. "Two final formalities and you may retire to your berth. Your acceptance vote, and that of Dai Atlas."

"No one's gotten this far and been turned away that I know of," Atl shot the Sovereign a glance.

"Not at this stage, no." The burgundy Seeker shook his helm and opened the door once more. "Knights have been banished and Initiates never make it this far, but never has an Initiate who has bonded to a Great Sword been denied a seat in the Circle."

The black triple changer took a moment to be sure of his balance before following Vanguard and Atl back out into the corridor, reopening the bond as he did so. "When will Dai be brought here to meet the Swords?"

"As soon as your confirmation vote is complete," Vanguard said. "You should remain with the Knights until his confirmation is complete. Then you are both free to reestablish your bond and recover."

"Hopefully I won't pass out in the middle of it." Axe shifted his Sword to his other hand. "Resisting Sentry of Balance took a lot out of me."

The Great Sword let out a mental purr across their bond, a mixture of pride that it was a challenge and pride that Axe had won.

~You went and picked a mech as stubborn as you are,~ Axe thought back at it with a mental chuckle. Through his bond with Dai Atlas, he heard his mate laugh and agree that Axe was stubborn. ~Hush, you,~ the black mech mock-grumbled in response, getting another laugh from his mate.

Atl just gave him a smile and they made their way to a room Axe had never been in; the great meeting hall. Going against its designation, it was actually a circular room with several ranks of seating in tiers. It wasn't unlike a very small arena with an oversized seating section, only there was no scent of death and the feel of the mecha in the seats was welcoming, happy and excited.

Upon entering the meeting hall, Axe's attention was taken up with taking in every detail of the room. He could easily identify the Sovereign's place by the elaborate podium. All of the Knights in the room he at least knew by sight, most by designation. He'd seen them all on the battlefield not that long ago.

Atl remained at Axe's side as Vanguard took his place.

"Knights of the Circle of Light, before you stands one who wishes to join our ranks. He has completed his training under myself and has bonded his Great Sword. He has passed all challenges and tests set in his path." Atl's frame gleamed as he turned, facing all of the gathered Knights before reaching up to place one hand on Axe's shoulder. "What say you, my fellow Knights? Shall the Initiate Axe join our ranks as a Knight of Light?"

One by one, beginning with Vanguard, the gathering added their hum to a chorus. One tone for acceptance, a dissonant one for rejection, a third that harmonized for acceptance with reservations. The reservations with Axe were few and none strident enough for a rejection. Against Axe's field Atl's felt more and more relieved and relaxed as the vote was tallied in the Knight's helm.

"Very well," Vanguard spoke as he stepped to the center of the floor with Axe, sending Atl to his chair.

Turning to face Axe, Vanguard began the Knights Creed, the long form, to which Axe would have to respond with "I do" or "I accept" or "I swear" at the appropriate places. Both Wing and Atl had grilled the triple changers exhaustively in the proper order to the responses and the words in full.

Vanguard finished the Creed, Axe's last response trailing into silence. The Knight leader placed both hands on Axe's shoulders, his thrusters making up the difference in height so his white optics met Axe's rich blue. He extended his field in welcome, flush with the pride he had in the older mech. "Welcome to the Circle of Light."

Axe nodded to Vanguard, trying to be at least semi-formal while fighting down a smile. "Thank you, Sovereign." He shifted his grip on his Great Sword, then set it into the new connectors on his back, twitching his shoulders slightly at the unfamiliar weight. The long blade was warm against his plating and its field was pleased to rest inside his.

Sentry of Balance was _home_, once more against the back of a mech worthy to bear it.


	11. Broken Skies

**Fandom**: Transformers G1  
**Author**: gatekat, ultrarodimus on LJ  
**Pairing**: Axe/Dai Atlas  
**Rating**: R  
**Codes**: Slash, Historical Setting, Knights of Light, Spark, Violence, Death  
**Summary**:  
**Disclaimer**: The authors are only playing with their own twisted muses. Transformers belong to Hasbro. Fandom-side, check the inspirations page (gatekat-fics .livejournal 290 .html). We draw from a ton of amazing stories and authors you should read.

Kneeling to the Sword 11: Broken Skies  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ =================== ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~Do you think you'll want to train one?~ Dai Atlas asked as he and Axe watched Wing torment his new Initiate, taken on less than a vorn before, with endless repetitions of how to center his balance in any stance.

~Eventually,~ Axe replied. ~I do want to reach Master rank. It's a huge investment though, taking a Supplicant from Initiate to Senior Knight.~ He smiled slightly as Wing danced easily around the lightly built and very elegant mech that now went by Dagger, correcting the former-noble Praxian's footing with a swat to one leg.

~It is,~ Dai Atlas agreed. ~Seeing it from the end, it amazes me the risk Wing took in taking me on so fast. I hope he has the same success with Dagger.~

~Wing got through to you,~ Axe pointed out, teasing the bigger mech. ~He'll get through to Dagger. Might go about it differently, though. It'll certainly be interesting to watch.~

~That it will,~ Dai Atlas suppressed a chuckle as the young mech's sensor wings flapped wildly as he lost his balance. ~I'm glad we didn't really go through that training.~

Axe somehow managed to keep his chuckle strictly through their bond as the pair watched their jetling tug his Initiate back to his pedes, then put him through his paces for the umpteenth time. Wing was being fairly slow and thorough about it, though the endless repetitions were probably going to drive Dagger right up the wall and back down the other side in fairly short order.

~Our Daoshies ended up making us look like klutzes more than once as it was,~ the black and gold triple changer pointed out with a chuckle. ~And we already knew our frames extremely well.~

~That they did, though Wing needed your help more often than not,~ Dai Atlas smirked at his mate.

Suddenly all three Knights paused and Wing flashed a grin at his creators. ::Talon's back, with _news_,:: he purred. "That's enough for now," he told Dagger. "I'm going to introduce you to a friend just back from their walkabout."

The young Praxian looked entirely too relieved for the reprieve, no matter how temporary.

~Messing with you was so much fun, though,~ Axe replied, poking Dai Atlas in the side. ~And they'd even let you get me back later.~ He sauntered over to Wing, nodding a greeting to Dagger before running an affectionate hand over Wing's helm crest. "Then let's go find out what news Talon brought back with him."

"And hope he's more entertaining than usual," Dai Atlas gave a teasing grin as the four of them left the training room and headed for the common room that would hold the social gathering that was a Knight's return from a walkabout.

Wing grinned up at both the larger mechs, matching his pace to theirs, though it meant jogging to keep up with the giants' long strides. "We'll see when we get there." He noted other Knights gathering, all of them speculating on what Talon's news might be.

Dagger wasn't nearly as used to keeping pace with the giants, much less conversing while jogging, so he remained silent. Not that it was unusual for him at this point. His entire upbringing had been ingraining in him the value of being seen only if looked for and not heard at all. It went against his very spark nature, but it was effective when backed by the forcefully installed programming to shut him up.

As such he didn't make a sound when he saw the other Praxian, a powerful Combat Aerial from the House of the Shining Sun, the premiere warrior House of Praxus. His field spoke volumes, however, as he made an effort to become invisible and escape.

Wing turned to face Dagger, his own field reaching out to wrap around Dagger as the Initiate tried to retreat, radiating reassurance. "Talon won't bite you," the white jet told the young Praxian firmly. "No one's background matters here. Ranks in the outside world are left behind at the gates when someone joins the Citadel community, and especially when a mech joins the Order." Taking Dagger's arm, he gently tugged the white and deep blue mech forward.

Faint trembling was a strong reminder both of Dagger's youth among them and what he'd faced before Atl had brought him back. The older Knight had taken great teasing over his continual finding and adopting of 'strays', but no one doubted his talent for spotting a good potential Knight once Dart was half way trained.

Talon, his white plating splashed with red, green, dark blue and royal purple, turned unusual purple-pink optics towards Wing as he approached and flicked his wings in a polite greeting.

"Welcome back, Talon," Wing greeted, all but bouncing over. He riffled his own wings in response, grinning brightly. "This is Dagger, my Initiate."

"Welcome, Dagger," Talon said politely, though without the warmth most Knights gave. "I am sure Wing will train you well."

"Thank you ... Knight Talon," Dagger stumbled over the rank as he stopped himself from reflexively using the Aerial's rank and House from before he was a Knight.

Wing grinned brightly, patting Dagger's arm before turning back to Talon. "Bring back any interesting bits of news with you?"

"A great deal, but one piece that will be of particular interest to your first Initiate." Talon looked at to Dai Atlas and Axe, who were now giving him their full focus. "Sentinel Prime has accepted all pending buyouts and pardoned the charges related to leaving early."

"_Sentinel_ Prime?" Axe repeated, plating flaring out in surprise. One dark hand groped for his mate's, seizing Dai Atlas' hand and holding it tightly. "Nova Prime is dead?"

"Yes, Nova has joined the Matrix and Sentinel now bears it and the status of Prime," Talon repeated with new wording. "You are no longer criminals and you are free of your contracts as well."

Dai Atlas squeezed Axe's hand hard enough to cause metal to creak. His wings quivered, an outward display of just how torturous the last six hundred and some vorns had been on him. ~We're free,~ he whispered to his mate, barely able to believe it. ~We can _fly_ again.~

Axe trembled all over, his grip on Dai Atlas' hand just as tight. ~We haven't really flown in far too long.~

Wing trilled, managing to refrain from jumping up and down as he turned bright gold optics and a nearly blinding grin on the two giant triple changers. "You're finally free of his madness. The sky is yours again!" White wings fluttered eagerly.

Dai Atlas nodded, his wings trembling even more violently. "How long ago was the pardon?"

"Sixteen vorns, two metacycles, seven decaorn and ten orns ago," Talon said evenly. "It was his first proclamation as Prime."

Other Knights discreetly eased out of the way, opening a path to the door. With the bulk of the Citadel's population being fliers of one type or another, everyone knew not to get between two flight-deprived mecha and the open sky.

~There are times when the Citadel's lack of touch with the outside world aside from what Knights on walkabout bring back is more than a little frustrating,~ Axe noted privately. He was beginning to fidget, shifting from pede to pede.

"Thank you for the news," Dai Atlas inclined his helm to Talon before turning on one heel and all but yanking a very willing Axe to the door. ~On the up side, after that long, _everyone_ will have gotten the news that the bounty is gone.~

~You do have a point. We won't have to worry about any would-be bounty hunters.~ Axe was almost stepping on his mate's heelplates in his eagerness to get out the door. His turbines were already warming up, the rumble of large jet engines echoing through the common room.

Other Knights flowed out after them, watching the pair. Wing was one of them, his own wings partly spread, optics bright as the two giants headed for the sky.

Dai Atlas transformed first, giving most of the gathering their first look at his enormous flying alt. Powerful engines roared, pushing the heavy frame vertical with a spin that left a double helix of white contrails behind him in the beginning of a skydance.

Axe was nanokliks behind his mate, engines howling. He matched Dai Atlas' maneuvers, dancing with his mate, the assembling crowd below nearly forgotten already. Other Knights and civilians were appearing on balconies and pausing in the courtyards, looking up toward the sound of powerful engines, wondering what was going on.

Wing's wings quivered, but he forced them to fold. While he did want to fly with Axe and Dai Atlas, for now he would give them the sky all to themselves. This was their first free flight in a very long time. He had to admit, they were magnificent too. They weren't taking quite the level of chances as Dai Atlas had during his courting dance, but it was close.

The pair commanded the sky in a way few mecha could. Despite their size, they were both fast and agile and had generations' worth of experience in their frames and making the most of their advantages.

In short order most of the population of the Citadel was out and watching, murmuring about the skill of the two big fliers. The news of Nova Prime's death was still spreading, so not everyone had heard yet, but those who hadn't were suspecting something of the sort just from seeing Dai Atlas and Axe in the sky. The fact that the pair didn't dare fly for the price on their helms was well known in the small community.

Wing was chirring happily without even noticing, his spark swelling with joy at seeing his creators in the air. Though they both had natural ground alts as well and weren't quiet as tormented as pure flight frames would have been, they had still spent a _very_ long time ignoring base coding.

Across the bond between Dai Atlas and Axe the desire to culminate the flight with a merge, much like the time Dai Atlas had first skydanced for Axe, made itself known.

~Why not?~ Axe purred, waggling his wings at his mate. He sidled closer, wingtip almost brushing Dai Atlas', purring through the bond. ~We haven't merged in the air for longer than we've been grounded by that fragging bounty.~

A full-frame shudder slid down Dai Atlas' larger frame as he angled upwards, into low orbit, before transforming and opening his arms for his mate. Axe followed eagerly, transforming and flying into Dai Atlas' arms. The black mech captured the blue's lips in an intense kiss, hooking one heel around Dai Atlas' shin for extra stability. Both frames vibrated from the revving of powerful flight engines.

~Primus I'd forgotten how _good_ it feels to hold you in the sky,~ Dai Atlas shivered, his systems revving hot and fast as he took advantage of Axe's embrace to run his own hands along the powerful black frame that he loved so much.

~It's been far too long.~ Axe's dark plating rubbed against Dai Atlas' as Axe writhed ever so slightly in his mate's arms, nipping at the blue armor framing his mate's face, working his way back to Dai Atlas' lips. His fingers brushed briefly against the Great Sword residing on his mate's back before feathering lightly over blue armor.

~Please...~ Dai Atlas could only beg as he kissed his mate passionately and unlocked his chest plates. His rich red spark roiled in his chest, reaching out for Axe's.

Blue light flared between Axe's parting chest armor, his spark casing already opening. Threads of blue energy reached out eagerly, twining with red. Axe returned the kiss, purring into it.

Pleasure exploded across their frames from their sparks outward, everything enhanced by flight protocols and the danger crashing represented when that pleasure crested.

~Yesss,~ Dai Atlas hissed, his optics off and helm thrown back as he gave over everything but stabilization control to the merge.

Axe's arms tightened, pressing his chest against Dai Atlas', the black mech letting out a long, low moan. His engines revved high, his whole frame vibrating, oblivious to everything but the merge and staying in the air. This was a bliss as pure as anything in existence for airframes.

With both sparks so eager there was no subtlety, no restraint, simply the crush of two essences in a rush to become one.

Axe's optics turned off, his whole essence intent on the merge. His spark twined with his mate's, forming a rich purple orb as two merged into one. For a few brief kliks, the entire universe shrank down to that purple glow. The rush of air over their falling frames didn't register, nor did the gradually increasing pull of their homeworld's gravity well. For that brief, glorious moment they were whole as only Primus could make them.

Then everything went black as the overload crashed through their systems.

Far below, those with the best optic zoom saw something that was _wrong_. A flash of light of the wrong color, then fire.

Shock rippled through the crowd as realization began to set in. Wing practically exploded into the air, racing upward, shrieking in alarm. Other fliers took off behind him as grounders scattered, some making a beeline for the medical wing, others just getting out of the way. In short order the Citadel resembled a roused cyber-wasp nest.

Well over a hundred airframes had taken wing, racing upward. The largest and strongest headed for the falling pair on an intercept course, aiming to catch the two. Others fanned out, trying to figure out exactly what was going on.

::Shot was fired.:: A burst of coordinates was spat over the comm in an entirely too-calm voice shortly after half a dozen large fliers managed to get the unconscious mechs, their chestplates jammed open and smoldering, separated and under control for the decent to Hardwing, Redline and the surgery.

Over a hundred Knights, all angry at the sneaky attack, turned toward the coordinates. Some were in mech form, others in alt mode, all intent on tracking the source of that shot and bringing down whoever had taken it.

One of the leading Knights announced a sensor lock. The group surged forward, tracking on it. With a target lock Wing's speed pushed him to the front and to quickly pick up the trail of a mid-sized groundframe just before it transformed and dove into an access port to the lower levels.

The white jet let out a cry of anger and frustration, diving toward the access port. Behind him followed the others, groundframes from the Citadel converging on their position to join the hunt. Another airframe, this one on his way back to the Citadel, changed course to join the swarm and pinged for a databurst on the situation.

::Transform and you'll fit,:: a familiar voice commed him. ::I can track him. It's what I did for a long time.::

Wing jolted in surprise. ::Demeter?:: Then he focused on what she'd said. ::Okay. Let's get him.::

The newcomer, now recognizable as Shogun, eased forward to pace Wing. ::I can help on the surface. If the quarry breaks for the surface, we'll get him up here.::

::Good,:: Demeter nodded, then transformed to her turbofox alt, dropped her nose to the ground and drew in a steady intake, venting it through a special system that allowed her continual intake. With a gleeful yip to signal any who would follow, she bolted into the opening.

Wing was immediately after her, along with a couple of groundframe Knights small enough to fit into the tunnels. The other Knights remained in the air.

Shogun checked his maps of the area, then began setting up search grids. Knowing he'd been a police mecha and this had been his job for longer than most of them had been functioning, most of the other Knights chose to listen. There would be no way for their quarry to slip past them.

No one took down two of their own in such a cowardly way and escaped.

In the tunnels Wing was trailed by Dart and Snapshot, all following Demeter's olfactory sensors as she tracked the shooter.

Slender wings twitched against Wing's back, the jet shifting his Great Sword to keep the hilt from hitting against anything. Dark hands gripped the hilts of his plasma swords as he followed Demeter, optics probing the shadows. As a flier it was not often he was underground, but this time he shoved the claustrophobia aside, focusing on finding the mecha who had shot his creators out of the sky.

The tunnels wound around, twisting and turning every which way as Demeter ran full on, her nose now in the air and her red optics glowing brightly. Tiny sounds of excitement escaped her vocalizer as the hunt drew close to its quarry.

Wing's hands tightened on the hilts of his plasma blades, hoping that Demeter had a better sense of direction than he did. Left to his own devices he would probably become thoroughly lost in these twisting tunnels.

::We're getting close, I think,:: he told Dart and Snapshot, flattening his pinions to his nacelles after scraping one against the tunnel ceiling.

Flickers of acknowledgement and increasing tension in the other two answered as they prepared to fight, not knowing what they were up against but confident in their training.

A growled yip of victory as Demeter turned a corner spoke of the target in her sights as she transformed and ran with both her swords drawn.

The glow of Wing's plasma swords cast a bright blue shine on the tunnel walls as the jet darted forward, following Demeter. His sensors pinged, registering something up ahead. Their quarry was close. It didn't take long for the white jet to spot a groundframe ahead of the four Knights. Optics narrowing, Wing pinged the target lock to Snapshot and Dart, following close behind Demeter.

The grounder turned, red optics glowing as he raised his rifle and locked onto Demeter. A bolt of energy erupted towards them. Demeter leapt to the side, bouncing from wall to ceiling to wall as she charged forward.

::I think this is right up your alley, Dart,:: Wing noted to the acrobatic red and white cycle-former. The white jet twisted to the side to avoid the shot, using his nacelles to avoid losing speed.

The younger Knight grinned and bolted forward, joining Demeter in the assault from the opposite side. Plasma blades slashed, but the grounder leapt back and angled the rifle for a point blank shot at Dart.

Wing's nacelles revved high, sending him racing forward. Spotting a small chunk of debris on the tunnel floor, he scooped it up, hurling it at the grounder's helm to throw off his aim. In the same moment Dart twisted up and around, sliding over the grounder's shoulder to land behind him while Demeter darted in to slash at his legs.

Snapshot was right behind Wing, the only one who couldn't see the grounder twist around as he fired to blow Dart's shoulder completely apart. Wing cried out, seeing bits of red and white metal raining from the wound. His pinions flared wide, nacelles firing. The jet hurtled down the tunnel, lashing out with his own swords. One crackling blue blade sliced deep into the grounder's arm, the other scoring painfully over the strange mech's hip.

Over the crumpling form of the shooter they all saw Dart collapse into an unmoving heap, the upper right side of his chassis missing, sparking and dripping around the edges of the missing frame.

Crying out in fury and pain, Wing drove his swords into whatever part of the shooter he could reach. Energon began to stain the walls and floor of the tunnel. This unknown mech had taken his creators from him, and now had seriously wounded, possibly deactivated, one of his best friends. He would not allow this mech to hurt anyone else.

He was only vaguely aware of Demeter joining him with a yipping series of barks and Snapshot moving to grab Dart and haul him away from the carnage.

Everything narrowed down to the grounder's frame and the blue flare of Wing's active plasma blades as he struck again and again. It wasn't until he registered that frame starting to change color that Wing finally snapped back to himself. He stilled as it began to sink in that the shooter had deactivated, the frame fading to gray.

For a long moment he just stared before Demeter's voice got his attention once more.

"Your first kill?" she asked, her tone understanding.

Wing nodded, beginning to tremble. He had never taken a life before. His swords fell from his hands as he stumbled backward away from the graying frame until his back struck the tunnel wall.

She glanced at Snapshot, who was staring in shock from where she hovered over Dart's shattered frame. "Wing, remain here," she ordered firmly. "I will return to show you out when Dart is with the medics. Understand?"

Wing nodded again, still staring in mute shock at the deactivated frame. He didn't seem to notice as Snapshot carried Dart out of the tunnels, lead by Demeter. He had done little more than quiver and twitch as he stared at his kill when she returned with Marwir and Mist some time later. Without so much as a word Marwir collected Wing's plasma swords and stashed them in her subspace before collecting him to hold him gently. Her field and hum was soothing as they watched Demeter and Mist collect all the pieces of the shooter in one bag, while the pieces they could find of Dart went in another.

"Come," Marwir said firmly when Demeter began to trot the way they'd come on four paws.

Wing was still trembling all over, but he obediently followed Marwir and Demeter back to the surface. "I've never killed anyone before," he murmured unsteadily. "I didn't even know what I was doing..."

"Pray it remains that difficult, my Initiate," Marwir told him gently. "Let killing never come easily for you. A binding penance will help you understand what has happened. It will be all right."

"I don't _want_ that to become easy," the white jet replied, his plating rattling. He glanced once at the bag containing the remains of the shooter. "Who was he, and why did he shoot down my creators?"

"I got an ID ping from him, so they might know if they wake up," Demeter said from the lead. "He has military glyphs in it, discharged. That's a disgrace. He didn't buy out, he was banished. It not anyone I recognize, but I have enough to pull up a lot from the databases next time I go out."

White armor flared and flattened, rattling slightly. "Are they going to be okay?" Wing seized on the comment about Dai Atlas and Axe. "Discharged? Maybe an old enemy..."

"It's likely. They would have had many," she chatted agreeably, willing to be a distraction while they returned to the Citadel. "They were still functional when we got Dart to medical, but Hardwing and Redline were silent."

Wing keened very softly. It was never a good sign when the medics were silent. "I hope no more of their old enemies come crawling out of the scrap piles..."

"I do as well," she agreed, her long fluffy tail swishing in agitation. "I'm surprised this one found them. Yet they are survivors. They have outlived more Primes than anyone I know of. They will not be caught off guard again."

"They are survivors. I hope they survive this." Wing shivered. "They have to."

"They have reasons to survive," Marwir added as they reached the surface and a couple dozen Knights waiting for them. "Not just each other, but for your too. Are you steady enough to fly?"

"As long as there's someone close enough to catch me if I falter." Wing stretched out wings still trembling ever so faintly at the tips.

"No one will let you fall," Marwir promised as the grounders and their burden were divided up among the gathered fliers and the group took off, making sure to keep Wing in the middle of the loose flock.

The largest of the group eased into the lower layers of the middle of the group, so Wing could land on his back if he had to. Red wings flicked in gentle encouragement.

Wing didn't say anything as he flew, though the continued trembling of his wingtips hinted that his thoughts were still circling around the mech he had killed.

Marwir remained close to him, silent in her support in a way that Wing always imagined a loving creator did with a fledgling. Thorn was on his other flank, just as silent as the Knights made their way to the Citadel and landed. Two angled off to the medical spire to deliver the parts. The rest quietly dispersed.

There would be many, many binding meditations in the coming orns.

Wing looked up at the medical spire, wanting to go see how his creators were doing. He fidgeted in place, wings twitching against his back, not sure what to do next.

Thorn glanced at Marwir, who nodded. The tall black Knight slid his fingers between Wing's. "Come on. I'll distract you until the medics are done."

"Thank you," Wing whispered, following the black Knight inside. He badly wanted to forget, at least for a little while.

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Joors after returning to the Citadel, Wing stirred, warming up his optics. The jet shifted slightly, making a mumbling sound as he booted up. He was on a berth, pressed against someone's frame. The familiar EM field told him it was Thorn. It took the white jet a few kliks to work up the desire to move. It was remembering that his creators were in the medical bay in critical condition that finally got him moving, wiggling slightly as he extracted himself from Thorn's arms.

"The medics don't have any news yet," Thorn murmured as he looked up at Wing. "I'll wake you as soon as I have news."

"I want to see them." Wing shifted again, looking toward the door.

A low sigh escaped Thorn as he rolled to his pedes. "Then let's get you at least somewhat presentable before you try to sneak in."

The white jet looked down at himself, noting the black, red and gold streaks in his white finish, as well as the transfluid and lubricants staining his thighs. His slender wings twitched. "You have a point." He trailed Thorn to the washrack and did his best to help clean himself up along with Thorn, then returned the favor in getting the white and red off his friend.

"No news is good news, after this long," Thorn commented. "If they lasted this long, they didn't take a spark chamber hit."

"Always a very good thing," Wing agreed. "But still, not hearing anything either way makes me nervous. I want to know what's going on." He scrubbed at a particularly stubborn white streak on Thorn's chestplate.

"I know," Thorn said softly, holding still for Wing's efforts, then nudging his friend around to work on his back. "They've both spent far too much time in the medical bay."

"Far, far too much time," Wing agreed, his plating flaring slightly. The young jet was slowly relaxing at least a little bit, though he was still tense. He was both relieved and reluctant when the shower ended and Thorn took the lead to tug Wing along to medical.

"Dagger," Wing cycled his optics in surprise at seeing his normally shy Initiate puttering around the medical bay.

The Praxian all but jumped out of his white and blue plating as he spun around, his ruby optics widening under the wide, thick chevron of matching red. "Daoshi. I ... um ... when you didn't return to your quarters, I hoped you'd turn up here eventually."

"I needed a distraction, very badly. Yesterday was... an exceptionally bad orn in more ways than one." Wing ran a hand over his face. "Dai Atlas and Axe are my creators; they adopted me while I was still training Dai. Not even Hardwing in a full-blown fit could keep me away."

Dagger nodded, his small sensor wings twitching in distress. "That's what Master Marwir said. She said you would come here eventually, and you would not be fit to resume my training until after your penance."

A faint smile appeared on Wing's face. "I won't be fit for very much of anything until after my penance. There's too much for me to work through. How long it'll take me to work through, I don't know."

"I understand," Dagger dipped his wings. "I will make myself useful until then."

Wing smiled again, patting the young Praxian on the shoulder before turning to face the surgery, where his creators were. White wings twitched as the jet steeled himself for what he was going to see when he went inside. In the very back of his processors, he was aware that Thorn had remained with Dagger and was speaking quietly with the young mech.

Long familiar with the surgery, Wing opened the door and took in the energon-stained nightmare that was the surgery in action. Dai Atlas, his chest plates still wide open and his color reasonably good, was hooked up to several machines but was otherwise unattended. Both medics and their aid were fixated on Axe, who was graying around the edges.

The little jet forcefully suppressed a keen of distress, his plating clamping tightly to his frame. Being as stealthy as a mech armored in bright and shining white could be, Wing crept across the floor toward Dai Atlas. One dark hand sneaked out to curl around the larger white hand resting limp on the edge of the med berth. Distressed golden optics took in the damage to the blue giant's frame, Wing suppressing another keen as he looked away from the mauled chest of his creator. Reaching up, his hand trembling, Wing lightly touched Dai Atlas' cheek, fingertips tracing one of the jagged black markings that ran under the darkened red optics.

There was no response, and Wing expected none. His creator's field spoke of medical stasis, though a reasonably stable stasis. A glance at the machines hooked up to him said the same thing. Dai Atlas was damaged, but he was in no real danger any more. At least as long as Axe pulled through.

Gold optics turned toward Axe, worriedly taking in the amount of gray showing on black plating, and how dull the usually sleek and glossy ebony looked. The medics were all gathered around the black triple changer; as badly as Wing wanted to go to Axe he was not about to disturb or distract the medics. Wings twitching once against his back plating, Wing settled where he was, Dai Atlas' hand gripped in his own.

He remained there, tucked against Dai Atlas, his field meshed with the stasis-locked giant, and did his best to avoid drawing notice to himself. The last thing he wanted was to be bodily evicted, and he knew from experience that neither medic had any issue doing so if he got in their way.

Now and then Dagger would glide in silently, push a cube of energon into his hand, and slip away without a word. Other times it was Thorn or Marwir, or even Vanguard or Shogun, but no one tried to talk to him.

If he didn't check his chronometer he'd have no clue that three full orns had passed before Hardwing finally trudged his way out of the surgery. Redline gave Wing a dim-opticked look and simply motioned to Axe before following his mentor.

Slowly, Wing peeled himself away from Dai Atlas, walking over to Axe. A very soft sound finally escaped as Wing took in the amount of damage the black and gold mech had taken. Dark fingers brushed lightly over Axe's golden crest, then ran down over his shoulder to curl around an equally dark hand. There was still a distressing amount of gray showing around the edges of Axe's armor plates, but he was finally in stable condition.

Axe's field spoke of his spark still going strong despite the blast that had missed his chamber by only a hand, _Wing's_ hand. The pain was there too, despite stasis and blockers, Wing could feel the aching of Axe's frame.

This time the sound Wing made was a sound of relief that Axe's spark was strong. His hand tightened on the black mech's as tightly clamped white plating began to loosen. The amount of pain the jet could feel despite the stasis and the heavy painkillers told him that Axe's recovery would not be quick. But he would recover.

And that meant Dai Atlas would recover.

His creators would recover.

Wing began to tremble all over again, but this time it was in relief.

"Daoshi?" Dagger's voice was soft, uncertain. "I saw the medics leave."

"Axe is stable," Wing murmured, looking over at the Praxian. "He will recover. Both of them will recover." He stroked along Axe's arm with his free hand, his field radiating his relief.

"Good," Dagger smiled and came closer to put a hand on Wing's shoulder. "Come recharge in your own berth? Or at least Thorn's?"

Wing wavered for a moment. He'd been recharging on his feet off and on, or curling as close to Dai Atlas as he could get without disturbing repairs or support machinery. The young jet needed to lay down and get a full recharge.

Finally, heaving a sigh, Wing released Axe's hand, leaning down to press a light kiss to the golden crest before withdrawing. Padding over to where Dai Atlas lay, he gently brushed his lips against the blue helm before straightening and reluctantly leaving the room. His Initiate obediently padded along, silent and attentive.

Thorn met him silently at the door to Thorn's quarters and the three entered after Thorn motioned Dagger to join them. The black jet's berth was familiar to Wing and he eagerly curled up with his friend as a fresh wave of grief-relief-shock hit him.

Then another warmth pressed against Wing's back as two fields, one long familiar and the other simply wanting to comfort, caressed him.

Wing let out a soft mew, his field flowing into the two brushing against it, accepting the comfort they offered. Gold optics powered down as exhaustion began to creep up on the jet, preparing to pounce. The fields meshing with his encouraged it, encouraged Wing to recharge and recover for the penance to come. In less than a klik Wing submitted to his systems and his companions to sink into a full oblivion.

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Wing was hurrying to the medical bay as fast as he could without running into anyone. He'd been woken up by Hardwing informing him that his creators were stable enough to be let out of stasis long enough for him to talk to them. Wing had scrambled out of the berth suddenly enough to startle Thorn nearly out of his armor and did tumble Dagger out of the berth to blink up at him in confusion.

Other Knights got out of the way as they saw him coming, watching him pass. No one tried to stop him, though. By now that all had a very good idea why he was in such a rush and that it was good news.

Redline greeted Wing at the door to medical. "You won't be able to talk long," the junior medic told him. "They are both still weak. Axe is still in some pain. They will, however, be able to move and speak for a breem or so."

Wing nodded, wings fluttering, almost dancing in place. "I understand." He tried to peer around the taller medic into the treatment room where his creators were being kept.

Redline shook his helm and chuckled before motioning Wing into the room where Hardwing was preparing to bring Dai Atlas out of stasis. Both mechs looked whole once more, their armor a healthy color and their chest plates closed.

While Wing bounced in place, out of the way, a glow of red became visible in Dai Atlas' optics.

A trill of pure relief came from the white jet. Anyone who really looked at him would note that his pedes were actually several inches off the floor, the jet bobbing in mid-air as his engines revved. Not even waiting for Hardwing's signal that he could approach, Wing scooted over, reaching out to place one hand on Dai Atlas' larger hand. "Dai?"

"Wing," he took a moment to focus on his creation, then his surroundings. "What?"

"You and Axe were shot down by someone while you were merged. Both of you were very badly injured." Wing rested his other hand on Dai Atlas' chestplate, lightly rubbing the smooth metal. "The shot barely missed Axe's spark chamber."

"He's going to be fine," Hardwing stalled Dai Atlas' attempt to jerk to his pedes with a firm hand and most of his weight on the giant's chest. "Listen to your spark. I'm going to bring him out of stasis now long enough for you to get to your quarters to rest. I know you'll recover better there."

"Thank you," Dai Atlas recovered before looking at Wing. "Was the shooter caught?"

"Almost all of the Knights went after him... Demeter, myself, Dart and Snapshot followed him underground. We were trying to take him alive, but then he shot Dart..." Wing's armor clamped tight to his frame. "Demeter said she got an ex-military ID ping, one she didn't know. He'd been discharged." The jet looked away. "We brought what was left of the shooter back with us."

Huge fingers reached up to slide down Wing's cheek. "And you haven't processed it yet. First kill?"

Wing leaned into the large white hand. "Yeah... I've never taken a life before." He trembled briefly. "I have a penance binding later."

"I'm sure," Dai Atlas murmured. "If you wish to talk about it, Axe and I have helped many young warriors through this. A first kill, that first time you see a mecha go gray and know you are the reason a spark returned to Primus early, it traumatic for nearly everyone, even sparked warriors."

Wing nodded. "After the binding, I'll find you. If you're recharging at the time, I'll curl up with you." Tilting his helm, he watched as Axe was slowly brought out of stasis. It took longer and was done with more care, but soon the glow of blue appeared in his optics.

Dai Atlas was carefully on his pedes in a moment and at his mate's side. ~It seems we gave everyone quite the scare.~

Wing appeared on Axe's other side, gently running a hand down Axe's arm. "Axe."

~Did we?~ Axe twitched. ~Ow... Primus, what hit me?~ Groaning softly at the throbbing aching of his frame, he turned toward Wing's voice, seeing relief clearly in the gold optics. "Wing."

~Sniper rifle, I'm guessing from the feel of it. Long range and powerful enough to go through your back, all the systems, my systems and out my back. Our creation has grown up,~ Dai Atlas explained.

~Don't suppose we know _who_ shot us?~ Axe wanted to know. Groaning softly, he reached up to tug Wing down for a brief embrace. Trilling very softly, Wing rested his helm on Axe's chest, listening to the reassuring pulse of his spark. ~First kill, hm? How badly in shock is he from it?~

~Snapjaw got an ID ping, but it's not anyone the Knights know,~ Dai Atlas purred as his fingers twined with his mate's. ~Fairly bad, though I have no idea how long we've been out. Chronometer hasn't reset itself yet. He's going to join us to talk or snuggle after his penance.~

"Can you sit up?" Hardwing's voice held concern.

Wing reluctantly pulled out of the embrace, wings twitching as Axe slowly levered himself up to a sitting position. The black mech hissed under his breath as the repaired damage protested, but he ignored it.

~Perhaps someone we knew? We'll ask Snapjaw later.~ Axe shifted so that he was sitting on the edge of the berth, taking a moment before he tried to stand. He wobbled briefly on his pedes before getting his balance back, then looked at Hardwing. "How long were we out?"

"Nine orns," the medic said grimly. "The shot missed your spark chamber by less than a hand," he held up his own, one much smaller than Axe's. "It wasn't much further off of his," he nodded to Dai Atlas. "Though your systems took much more critical damage from the fire. You were graying out on us for more than an orn."

Black armor flattened, then flared as Axe digested that. Wing trembled. Axe reached over to rub the young jet's red crest reassuringly. "I'm still here, jetling, and not planning on going anywhere anytime soon."

"Just to your berth, to recharge and rest until you are no longer receiving errors or pain," Hardwing said firmly. "So no interfacing, no exertion, no getting up until the pain signals are gone or you're going to spend the rest of your recovery here. Understood?"

"Understood," Dai Atlas said firmly.

Axe nodded. "I understand." The black mech grimaced. "The way I feel right now, I'm not at all interested in anything but energon and recharge anyway." He looked at Wing. "We'll see you after your penance, jetling."

Wing nodded, very carefully leaning against Axe, letting out a soft purr.

There was a discreet tap on the door, and a large red mech with an elaborate silver crest poked his helm in. "Sorry to interrupt. I volunteered to walk with Axe and Dai Atlas, to make sure they get to their quarters without stumbling or falling."

"Thank you, Shogun," Dai Atlas inclined his helm slightly. He reached out to stroke Wing's shoulder nacelle. "We will see you later, Wing."

Wing leaned into the touch, smiling up at the large blue mech. "I'll see you later." He hugged whatever bit of Dai Atlas he could reach briefly; he knew Hardwing would get him if he tried to pounce on the big blue triple changer as Wing usually did. "I'm so glad both of you are all right."

Shogun came all the way into the room, keeping discreetly out of the way and allowing the trio their moment. He waited patiently, idly examining an old dent in the wall.

Finally, reluctantly, Wing peeled himself away from blue armor. It was time for him to report for his penance ... still, he could see his creators to their room, at least, couldn't he?

Quietly Wing followed the three out of medical and along the halls. Axe managed to _look_ like he was all right, even his field spoke of being fine. It was very different from the view and feel of him in the relative privacy of medical. Internally, though, the black triple changer was wincing from the pain in his frame. His chest was a constant throb of deep aches, but fortunately he didn't detect any of the damages that resulted from an impact. The other Knights had caught him and Dai Atlas right out of the air.

Shogun maintained a slight distance, looking as if he were merely walking with the pair, not escorting them in case one or both couldn't quite make it to their quarters. He knew how important appearance was, especially to a pair long used to high rank in an aggressive subculture. Other Knights they encountered in the corridors looked at Dai Atlas and Axe with clear relief. The entire Citadel had been worried about them, Knights and civilians. Everyone was glad to see them up and around. They returned the nods and greetings, but were privately grateful when they finally reached the sanctuary of their quarters.

Dai Atlas turned his helm to nod his thanks to the pair, and quietly shoo Wing to his duty, before the door closed behind them. "Oil bath soak, or the berth?"

Axe thought for a moment. "Soak first, I think... You might have to haul me out, but it would be worth it." He followed his taller mate across the common room, not bothering to hide the pain he was in anymore.

"I am strong enough for that," Dai Atlas promised, signaling the pool to begin heating. "It will feel good, the oil and holding you."

"Being held by my mate trumps how good the hot oil will feel, though," Axe replied, leaning against Dai Atlas and letting his optics dim slightly. "Though the hot oil will still feel very good."

"Agreed," Dai Atlas smiled and gently guided Axe into the quickly warming pool.

The black mech groaned softly as the warming oil lapped at his plating, flaring his armor to let the welcome heat at his aching internals. "That does feel good." He sank in to his chin, bracing his shoulder armor against the rim on the pool to keep from sliding under entirely. Then Dai Atlas was next to him, nudging him to settle onto the larger mech's lap so Axe didn't requite any effort to remain where he was.

"Yes, it does," Dai Atlas flared his armor widely and shivered at the rush of liquid heat. "Oh, Primus it does. Worth every credit we saved up for this."

Axe shifted over, leaning against his mate. Purring softly, he settled into the oil, flaring his armor wider. The heat felt very good, dulling the ache of fresh repairs and extensive damage. "Definitely worth every credit." He tilted his helm to sneak a kiss from his mate, resting his helm against a blue shoulder.

"Agreed," Dai Atlas kissed him back and noted both the lack of arousal as a mark to how much work autorepair still had to do on them both. "It's good to feel your spark this close, even if we can't merge for a time yet."

"It is." Axe shifted on Dai Atlas' lap, resting his helm against the black chestplate and listening to the pulse of his mate's spark through the thick plating. The black mech was drowsing in the welcome heat, his purr rising in volume as the heat dulled the pain.

Slowly, strong white hands stroked Axe's back. The field enveloping him had long meant safety no matter his state. So did the spark pulsing in rhythm to his own.

~Relax, recharge,~ Dai Atlas crooned across the bond. ~I'll be here when you boot.~

Axe nuzzled against Dai Atlas' armor, settling himself comfortably, leaning against his mate's strong frame, letting that comforting field wrap around him like a blanket. It wasn't long before the black mech was deep in recharge, helm tucked under Dai Atlas' chin.

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Just over an orn after his penance had begun, Wing was finally released from the medical bay. He'd spent close to an entire orn in the binding, wrestling with what had happened while hunting the mech who had shot down his creators. It had not been an easy binding. Hardwing had kept him in the medical bay for a couple of joors after the penance had ended before kicking him out again.

Wing made his way through the corridors to Dai Atlas and Axe's quarters, coding the door open. He had an open invitation to their quarters, so he had the code for their door, and they for his. Crossing the main room, he peeked into the berthroom. Dai Atlas was sprawled on his back with Axe curled against his side, half on top of him and wrapped in the larger mech's arms. The slow ventilations and dark optics spoke of recharge.

Wing smiled, padding across the room and slipping onto the berth. He extended his field to brush against and merge with theirs, carefully crawling onto Dai Atlas' chest and cuddling up against both of the older mechs. After a couple of failed attempts at wriggling under Dai Atlas' arm, Wing gave up, curling against it instead. He slipped into an easy recharge soon after, only rousing briefly when Dai Atlas moved his arm to hold Wing.

It was joors later when an insistent nudging roused him for real and he looked up blearily at Dai Atlas' ruby optics.

"Axe needs to get back in the oil," the giant explain calmly. "Join us?"

Wing chirped an affirmative, all but oozing off Dai Atlas' chest and stretching as he watched the two big mechs climb to their pedes. The jet followed the two to the hot oil bath, waiting for them to settle themselves before sliding in to join them.

Axe again settled onto his mate's lap, leaning against Dai Atlas' frame. The black mech reached out to collect Wing, tugging the white mech into Axe's lap. "Rough penance?"

"Definitely not an easy one." Wing leaned into the embrace.

"No matter how accepting it is handled, it's never easy," Dai Atlas said soothingly as the hot oil oozed and slid into their frames to spread its comforting warmth and support. "It is the final test as to whether a mecha can be a warrior or not. It is hard for you, but many civilians can never cope with it."

White armor trembled. "I hate it, and I hope I never have to do that again."

Axe stroked Wing's back until white armor loosened and slender wings began to extend. "It's good that you hate it."

"I too hope you never have to kill again," Dai Atlas said softly, even if he had personal doubts. Still, he stroked slender wings to comfort and sent a small prayer to Primus to protect this last creation of his from harm.

The petting was beginning to relax the young jet, tension finally leaving the white frame. Wing settled against their plating. "With any luck, no more trigger-happy, cranky mecha will come crawling out of the scrap piles."

"That would be a blessing," Dai Atlas agreed, his voice a low rumble as he relaxed with the purring of his mate and creation. "How is Dagger doing?"

"I haven't been in any condition to continue his training since you two were shot down," Wing replied. "He's been very understanding... The other night he shared a berth with Thorn and myself." He sank to his chin in the hot oil, loosening his armor to let more of it into his internals. A soft blissful mew escaped as welcome heat spread through his frame.

"Lover or warmth?" Axe asked curiously.

"Warmth," was the reply. Wing shifted, resting his helm against Axe's shoulder. "That was the first time I have shared a berth with Dagger."

"Good sign he cares about you," Dai Atlas smiled at the sight. "I'm sure you'll be more than ready to pick up again in the morning."

Wing chuckled. "Late morning to early afternoon. Dagger isn't quite the night turbo-owl that Axe is, but he does prefer the later joors."

"Nice of you not to torment him with dawn then," Dai Atlas smirked and rubbed Wing's crest. "Are _you_ getting enough recharge, staying up that late?"

Wing grinned, leaning into the touch. "We Knights are fairly good about tailoring our training schedules to the needs and preferences of our Initiates. I drop into recharge after the evening meditation; I'm in my berth before he is sometimes. So I am getting enough recharge."

"Like Atl did for me." Axe nodded, recalling how his schedule had been arranged.

"Yeah, like that, though Atl isn't nearly the morning mecha I am," Wing chuckled. "I admit I would have had a hard time giving you my all on your joors. But Dagger's aren't bad. Midnight isn't _that_ late as long as you don't get up with the sun."

Axe chuckled. "Good for you, then, that my beloved is much more of an early cyber-bird than I am." Unable to resist, he slid his fingers behind a white audial flare, watching as Wing all but melted.

Both triple changers grinned and watched their creation lose all interest in movement or control of his frame.

~I don't think I'll ever tire of watching him do that,~ Dai Atlas mused.

~He does "strutless" very well,~ Axe chuckled. ~And I know I won't tire of seeing this.~ His smile widened as Wing settled closer to black plating, all but sinking completely under the surface of the oil, his frame vibrating from his purr. ~It's adorable.~

~It is. And his size ... it's what I imagine having a real sparkling from one of our frames would be like,~ Dai Atlas thought wistfully as their was a ping requesting admittance to their quarters from Demeter. He pinged her back and sent the remote unlock signal for the door.

~Though I can't really see either of us producing a sparkling who is almost entirely white,~ Axe noted. ~But yes, he is just about sparkling-size for us. And he doesn't at all mind being cuddled like a sparkling.~

Hearing the door open, Axe looked up, turning blue optics in that direction as the femme who wore a mecha-animal alt even here walked in.

~Speaking of sparkling-sized,~ Dai Atlas couldn't help but chuckle as he nodded a greeting to the Knight that wasn't as tall as his hand was wide.

"I had heard you were feeling better," she smiled at the pair.

~She'd be one tiny sparkling,~ Axe replied with a purely internal chuckle. "Relatively speaking. Much better than we felt when we were brought in, but still not up to full yet." The black Knight shifted Wing slightly on his lap, continuing to pet spread wings.

"He's adorable like that," she smiled warmly at the scene as she flopped down into her turbofox alt mode at the side of the pool. "I got an ID code off the shooter. He was discharged. Thought you might have crossed paths."

~I doubt she was one any more than we were,~ Dai Atlas replied. "Yes, he is," he glanced down at the puddle of white mech in Axe's lap.

~Probably.~ The black mech teased the tip of a white wing, causing it to flutter rapidly for a moment, then turned his attention back to Demeter. "What was the designation of the shooter?"

"Road Whip," she repeated it carefully and pinged them both with exactly what she'd received.

Axe rumbled, careful not to tighten his grip on slender white wings. "We knew him," the black mech told her, his voice flat.

"Right," she nodded, the black tip of her long fluffy brown tail twitching. She hesitated before curiosity got the better of her. "What happened with him?"

"Nothing good," Axe replied, looking down as Wing's helm poked up above the surface of the oil. Even as blissed out as Wing was from the petting, he could tell something was up even if his processors were flatly refusing to pay attention as long as the petting continued.

Dai Atlas gave a grumbling huff. "He couldn't follow orders when it came to controlling himself. Good at killing, but if you wanted him to stop, or Primus forbid, not indulge himself with anyone who couldn't stop him, he wasn't about to comply. He got sent to me because of my reputation for turning unbreakable trouble into good soldiers. He was one I couldn't break."

"That lack of control was what got him discharged," Axe added. He glanced at his mate. "It makes me wonder if he's been actually hunting us."

"Perhaps," Dai Atlas hummed. "Fortunately now that we have been pardoned and released from our contracts, it does not matter if he told anyone else where we are."

"It would explain why he shot us, though," Axe pointed out. "Personal revenge for getting him kicked out of the military?" The black mech shrugged, then winced as the motion sent a dull ache through his chest.

"Is he likely to have any allies we should keep an optic out for?" Demeter glanced between the pair.

"Possible but most unlikely," Dai Atlas shook his helm even as he reached up to rub Axe along the ache. "He was not the social type."

With a quick dip of her slender muzzle she hopped to her feet and trotted out, leaving the family to their private time.

Axe leaned into his mate's touch, continuing to pet Wing. "If he was actually hunting us, I certainly hope he had no allies. That was not an experience I'd care to repeat anytime soon."

"Nor I," Dai Atlas leaned into their mutual contact. "Nor the very real damage you took in the battle before we were Knighted. Yet for all that it is a much more peaceful existence here."

"Much more peaceful," Axe agreed. He looked down at Wing, smiling as he discovered that the white mech had fallen into recharge in his lap, helm resting right over Axe's spark. "I much prefer our existence here to what it was before." Leaning back against Dai Atlas, Axe settled himself comfortably and allowed his systems to focus on the micro repairs needed to integrate his new parts.


	12. Walkabout

**Fandom**: Transformers G1  
**Author**: gatekat, ultrarodimus on LJ  
**Pairing**: Axe/Dai Atlas  
**Rating**: NC-17  
**Codes**: Slash, Historical Setting, Knights of Light, Sticky, Spark, Death  
**Summary**:  
**Disclaimer**: The authors are only playing with their own twisted muses. Transformers belong to Hasbro. Fandom-side, check the inspirations page (gatekat-fics .livejournal 290 .html). We draw from a ton of amazing stories and authors you should read.

Kneeling to the Sword 12: Walkabout  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ =================== ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Axe and Dai Atlas walked through the corridors of the Citadel toward the office of the Sovereign, wondering what Vanguard wanted to see them about. All they had been told was that he wished to see them in private, without giving away any other details. The pair had been speculating among themselves, finally drifting into silence as they approached the office of the Circle's leader.

It opened at their approach, effectively ushering them into a room that as always struck them as a political statement; it was shaped, painted and inlaid to match the crossguard and gem of a Great Sword with the water-blue gem of Dreamer is the Dream. All the furniture and features were either transparent or added to the illusion of being inside the gem.

"Dai Atlas, Axe," Vanguard greeted them in the traditional order by rank and time in rank. "Have you considered going on a walkabout?"

Axe cycled his optics several times. "Can't say that I have, since it really wasn't an option before the death of Nova Prime. Once we found out that we wouldn't have to go out and risk being caught, I pretty much put it out of my mind."

"It would benefit you to consider it now," the Sovereign said simply. "I will not order you to leave, not with the extent of your existence out there. I will, however, request that you go on a walkabout as every other Knight has done. Experience the parts of our society that you may not have had contact with before. Be sure that you are here because it is the best place for you, rather than because it is all you know."

The black and gold Knight looked over at his mate. "We were sparked warriors and in the military almost all our lives. There's probably quite a bit of normal non-military life that we know nothing about. It's definitely something to consider."

Dai Atlas nodded, still rather stunned by the concept of _leaving_. Across the bond Axe felt the growing unease in his mate, twined with the determination not to allow that to rule him.

"Yes, there is much of Cybertron we have not experienced," Dai Atlas agreed thoughtfully, his wings twitching in agitation. "Much of society even I have not known."

"As a concession to the age of your bond, I will not ask you to walk separately, as long as I have both your word that you will not use each other as an excuse not to interact with the people around you."

"Given," Dai Atlas nodded.

"I also give my word." Axe mirrored his mate's nod. One hand eased over to rest lightly against Dai Atlas'. He was uneasy about it as well; it had been more than six centuries since he and Dai Atlas had left the Citadel, and the first time they had dared to fly after learning they were free of Nova Prime, they had been shot out of the sky.

"There are a few additional rules that your Daoshi did not drill into you as it was not going to matter for some time, if at all," Vanguard spoke even as he offered them a small smile and a databurst. "You will each be given twenty three orns worth of rations, a field repair kit and three hundred credits in whatever form you wish to have it in. How you survive at least one hundred and sixty six vorns is largely up to you. Understand that we are unlikely to know if you get into trouble in time to help you. If you break any laws you are expected to face the punishment for it under local law if they charge you."

Axe frowned thoughtfully, glancing at his mate. "And no contact with the Citadel until we return, I am assuming... We'll figure something out." The black Knight shifted his weight absently, his processor poring over the information.

"No," Vanguard nodded. "Contact with Skjöldur beyond a casual nod as you pass should also be avoided. Though given her inclination towards not talking, that shouldn't be much of an issue."

Axe chewed on that for a moment, then turned his attention to his mate. ~What do you think?~

~Given the stated purpose of the walkabout, all the rules make sense,~ Dai Atlas mulled it over. ~I can't say I'm looking forward to it, but we should go.~

~Think you can survive without cuddles from our jetling for that long?~ the black and gold mech teased, returning his attention to Vanguard. "We will go, then."

~I will, he may not,~ Dai Atlas snickered back even as he nodded in agreement with his mate.

"Good. Make your preparations and decide how you would like your credits. Aurora will provide what you need. I will call a grand counsel in three orns to announce your walkabout." There was no missing the Seeker's pleasure that they were following tradition without it being demanded of them.

"We'll be ready," Dai Atlas promised.

Axe chuckled through the bond. ~I'll miss him while we're gone, that I know for sure.~ Cycling his optics to refocus them, Axe nodded in agreement and followed his mate out.

~We'll just have to make due,~ Dai Atlas leaned against his mate's shoulder as they returned to their quarters. ~Have you decided what you want your credits as?~

~Still pondering what form would be the most useful,~ Axe replied, his processor still working on that. ~Have you decided?~

~Fifty credits and the rest in energon,~ he said simply. ~There is nowhere on Cybertron that you can't use energon as currency, and the stuff we get here is unique enough to fetch a good price in trade. Or we can drink it.~

~Point,~ Axe agreed. ~That sounds reasonable." He paused for a moment. ~Have you given any thought to where we should head first, after we leave the Citadel?~

A deep huff escaped the big mech. ~Iacon, and the Prime. I want to find out if his pardon was a trap for deserters. If he's a good mech, then we won't need to be paranoid for the walkabout. If he's setting a trap, we can bolt back here if we escape again.~

Axe hummed low in his vocalizer. ~If it is a trap, getting out will be more difficult this time. We no longer have weapons integrated into our alt modes. I do hope this new Prime is a good mech. I'd rather spend the walkabout learning new things and picking up some new skills, not looking over my shoulder all the time.~

~And he'll likely have learned from our last escape,~ Dai Atlas said grimly, the bond making it clear that he had no expectation of managing to escape a second time. ~I would _know_ we are free, or extinguish removing an evil mech from the functioning.~

Agreement flowed along the bond. ~While I would prefer to get out with my spark, I too would fight to the end to prevent others from being trapped.~

Across the much weaker bonds with their Great Swords there was the hum of harmonic agreement and reminder that _nothing_ could stop them if fully charged.

~And there is them,~ Dai Atlas agreed. ~It may be a last ditch risk, but if even half of the records are true, if we know we will extinguish they will ensure none within our reach escape with their sparks.~

Axe reached back to brush his fingers over the heavy hilt of the Great Sword he carried. ~I had forgotten... No Knight has used a Great Sword in battle in a very long time.~ He sent a thread of apology to Sentry of Balance for having forgotten that about the Great Swords.

~It goes against what they stand for now; to only kill when there is no other choice,~ Dai Atlas mused. ~Those first few generations were quite different from the Knights of now.~

~That is true.~ Axe coded open the door to their quarters, stepping inside. Black armor ruffled. ~Preparations... and telling our sparkling that we're going on walkabout...~

~Assuming he doesn't find out from others first. I can't imagine this spreading any slower than news of Shogun's bonding,~ Dai Atlas chuckled a bit as he went to their supply cabinet and began to select what they'd bring, paying careful attention to the allowed and forbidden lists both in technicality and spirit.

~The whole Citadel knew that Shogun had finally bonded to Stormcloud within a half breem of it actually happening, long before they ever came out to announce it themselves.~ Axe snorted. ~I'm expecting Wing to pop in and pounce on us as soon as he's finished putting Dagger through his paces for the orn.~ The black mech joined his mate, sorting through their supplies. ~Assuming this goes well, are we going to stay out more than the minimum?~

Dai Atlas paused, thoughtful, as he ran that through tactical processors as well as his emotional protocols. ~I think I would stay until we are ready to return.~

The black and gold mech hummed his agreement. ~As long as it goes well. I think it will be very interesting to learn new things and have new experiences.~

~Agreed,~ Dai Atlas hummed, a flicker of excitement in his field. ~Something new that _isn't_ about the next best way to kill.~

A soft knock on their door announced a mecha that didn't have the codes. Axe looked up from his sorting, sending the remote unlocking code for the door. One optic rim lifted slightly upon seeing who walked in, then Axe inclined his helm in a polite greeting. "Thorn."

"Word is you're going on a walkabout," the resident history junky said, the ruby gem of Shield of the Sky glittering over his helm.

"We are, now that it should be safe enough for us to be outside the Citadel." Axe glanced at Dai Atlas briefly. "We were sparked military... There is a lot we don't know about other lifestyles, and this is as good a time as any to learn. I think it will be very interesting."

"I hope that the bulk of the population won't recognize me," Dai Atlas added. "It hasn't been long enough for those of rank or military to have forgotten, but we might manage to be treated like normal mecha in some cities. It will be interesting ... It's been ages since my rank didn't affect those around me."

Axe chuckled. "It's good to hope, but I wouldn't count on going completely unrecognized. You know as well as I do how quickly news spreads. The gossip vine runs faster than even a teleporting courier mecha. And we were in the news quite a bit, both as military and after we left."

Dai Atlas snorted. "I know. Some cities, like Praxus and Kaon, don't care much about the news. Even if it's just a few times, it would be a pleasant change."

"Yet most _like_ to be recognized," Thorn cocked his helm.

"Most haven't been in the limelight for three Primes," Dai Atlas pointed out. "I was a top General because I'm _good_ at the function, not because I desired it."

"It would be very nice to go unrecognized, I have to admit. I was only a second-in-command, so I wasn't in the spotlight quite as much as the love of my existence here was, but enough that anyone with a quick processor would be able to recognize me." Axe shrugged.

"Then I wish you the best at being unrecognized," Thorn inclined his helm, then allowed a mischievous look to cross his features. "I'm off to tell Wing, and see how long he can focus."

The black and gold triple changer grinned wickedly. "Ten creds says he won't be able to focus for long." Dark plating ruffled slightly as Axe shifted. "You and Atl are going to have fun with him while we're gone," Axe observed with a chuckle. "Poor jetling will be cuddle-deprived very quickly."

Dai Atlas could only laugh. "Fortunately you'll have plenty of help if you want it. I think most of the Citadel enjoys his company."

"Definitely," Thorn winked at the pair. "We'll be the ones deprived when he finally finds the mate he's always going on about. Have fun, and pack carefully. It's a long time to be on your own out there."

Dai Atlas nodded as the black jet slipped out to torment his friend. ~It's been longer than I care to remember since either of us has been on our own in any sense of the term.~

~Considering how well-trained Wing has you when it comes to cuddling, I will laugh my aft plating off if you start showing signs of jet-cuddle deprivation,~ Axe teased. ~And yes, it has been. I'm not entirely sure I can accurately recall the last time I was completely on my own.~

~If I start picking up random mecha in my recharge, feel free. Just make sure you get captures of their expressions for me,~ Dai Atlas smirked. ~I'm sure there would be priceless ones.~

Axe laughed out loud. ~Image captures, vid captures, and teasing until the orn we go offline.~ He leaned over to sneak a kiss, then went back to sorting and packing.

They had finished packing, set much of their quarters to rights for a long time empty and indulged in each other until their paint was well-traded before sinking into their prized hot oil pool by the time Wing had broken and given up on the orn and flown to their balcony.

The white jet trotted across the main room, poking his helm in to make sure they weren't in the middle of something before walking over. "Thorn says you two are going on walkabout."

"Yes," Dai Atlas nodded as he motioned the younger mech over in welcome. "Vanguard requested we consider doing so, and we have."

Wing settled on the rim of the pool, tilting his helm at them. "It will certainly be an interesting experience for you... And it should be safe enough now."

"That is the expectation," Dai Atlas agreed. "It will be interesting for us to experience a world where we are not part of an organization or supported by it. Neither of us has existed on our own like that, other than the flight between Iacon and here."

"And there would be a lot for you to learn about life outside of the military." Wing nodded. He was quiet for a moment, slender white wings fluttering uneasily behind him.

"We'll be fine," Axe assured him. "The _Prime_ couldn't get rid of us. A little walkabout won't either."

"The first time you left the Citadel, for a skydance, I saw you shot out of the sky," Wing pointed out. "I'm allowed to be nervous."

Axe reached out to grab a white leg, pulling the startled jet into the pool. "We will be fine, Wing."

"Yes, and you are allowed to miss us," Dai Atlas pulled Wing to his lap and stroked his back. "We will be fine. We will come back."

Wing leaned against Dai Atlas' frame. "I am most definitely going to miss you," the small jet murmured.

"We'll miss you too," Axe murmured, adding his fingers to his mate's on Wing's back. "But you're safe here. Those raiders will never manage an assault like the last one again."

"Not in the next couple hundred vorns at least," Dai Atlas added.

The small jet chuckled. "I doubt any of the surviving raiders will want to come anywhere near the Citadel. Not after what happened the last time." Gold optics briefly met red and Dai Atlas smiled weakly.

"No, not after what I did, I do not expect so. My song is not something to risk experiencing twice," he murmured, a large finger stroked Wing's backstrut. "Nor are the Knights of Light when pressured to fight."

Wing nodded his agreement, resting his helm against Dai Atlas' chestplate. After a long moment, he tilted his helm to look up. "Think you'll be able to adjust to not having a purring ball of jet recharging on top of you?" he wondered, clearly remembered having been fetched from his own berth on several occasions.

"If not, my dear mate has promised captures and vids of it," Dai Atlas chuckled, a deep rumble of mirth. "I'm sure you'll hear all about it when we get back."

"And you, try not to interfere with your friend's love lives too much," Axe teased back.

Wing gave the black mech a look of purest innocence. "Who, me? Surely not me!" Mischief glittered in sun-gold optics as the jet grinned brightly. "I look forward to hearing all about your travels when you return."

"Yes you, little flitter-glitch," Axe laughed. "I expect all the stories of _your_ adventures while we're gone too. With many pictures, especially of your new Initiate growing up."

The little jet laughed. "I'll try not to cause _too_ much chaos, but I make no guarantees." He leaned over to press against Axe's plating, purring softly. "I will miss you very much while you are away, creators."

"As we will miss you, Wing," Dai Atlas spoke the designation with great affection and the modifiers that gave no doubt of his claim on the white jet.

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It had been well over six hundred vorns since the pair had fled Iacon. Seeing it again, Axe couldn't stop the shudder that ran through his frame from nosecone to tailfins, his wings shifting closer to his fuselage before spreading back out to their full span. He couldn't help the case of nerves he'd developed since seeing Iacon come into view on the horizon, easing a little closer to Dai Atlas.

~It will be over soon, either way,~ his mate promised. ~By midmorning tomorrow we will know how this new Prime stands.~

~Hopefully it will end favorably,~ Axe replied. He eyed the city as they passed over the outskirts, heading toward the city center. ~Having gotten used to the much smaller population of the Citadel, the city is... very slightly daunting.~

A rumble of amusement came from Dai Atlas. ~I never thought you would feel like that. Though at least we won't have to pay for a place to stay here. Titanium has an apartment in Iacon, and a couple other cities.~

The black mech flicked his wings in a shrug. ~Surprised me, too.~ Axe rumbled softly. ~And he gave us an open invitation to stay at his place as long as we need to.~ He sideslipped to dodge a much smaller airframe, responding to a shouted curse with a rude wing-flick.

~Some things never change,~ Dai Atlas chuckled at the traffic and pinged Iacon's central database for directions to the address Titanium had given him so long ago.

~Including couriers thinking they always have the right of way,~ Axe grumbled.

Titanium's apartment was in one of the towers near the heart of the city. The older mech had plenty of credits and no reason not to use them. Like the majority of places that catered to flying mechs, there was a balcony. The apartment was of a decent size, with two berthrooms, a washrack, and a kitchen area as well as the main living space. Best of all, it was designed with Dai Atlas' frame size in mind.

"We'll have to thank him if we ever cross paths again," Dai Atlas said as he began to relax slightly in the familiar feel of the place, even if he hadn't been there before. "It will be nice to have a good berth these first orns."

Axe leaned on the balcony rail, looking over the city. "It will, indeed." Walking inside, he settled onto the couch, reaching out to brush his fingers against the vanes on the tip of one of Dai Atlas' wings as the larger mech came within reach. He got a low hum and flare of desire for his efforts, as well as drawing his mate to sit next to him. The kiss was warm, full of affection and desire that never went away.

"Energon, then test out the berth?" Dai Atlas suggested with a rumble.

"Sounds good," Axe purred, returning the kiss. The thick padding on the couch shifted under him as he sidled closer to his mate. He fished out an energon cube, taking a long sip, then lifted it to his mate's lips to feed him, just to feel the shiver that always ran through Dai Atlas' frame at the move.

Feeling that shiver drew a purr from the black and gold mech. Axe leaned forward to playfully lick a stray drop of energon from Dai Atlas' lips, savoring the taste and the heated kiss that quickly followed.

For Dai Atlas at least, the energon was quickly forgotten and his mate pressed down to lay on the couch.

Axe responded with a chuckle as he sank back, the padding shifting to comfortably support his frame. He ran his hands over Dai Atlas' back, taking a moment to put the energon cube down on the floor where it wouldn't be knocked over by accident. Dark fingers found a wing base, sliding into the seams that opened willingly to his touch.

~Primus, I love you Axe,~ Dai Atlas moaned, his glossa delving into his mate's mouth as his spike cover slid open.

~I love you more than words can express,~ Axe murmured in response, his glossa flirting with his mate's as one gold-trimmed leg curled over Dai Atlas' hip, the black mech's valve cover eagerly sliding open.

In a dance that was old to them before most mecha in existence had been sparked, Dai Atlas slid into his mate, smooth and deep, before drawing back and giving his entire frame over to the pleasure that was his bonded.

Axe's other leg curled over a dark hip, ankles hooking together. He moaned into the kiss, sliding one hand under Strength of Conviction's blade to touch the sensitive metal underneath. His other hand slid up to knead the back of Dai Atlas' neck, sneaking under the rim of the blue mech's helmet to entice a cry from his mate.

Huge white hands gripped Axe's shoulders as the thrusts sped up. Their bond flared opened and the physical bliss poured through, yet it was the emotional content that truly got Dai Atlas off. After such a long existence, pure physical pleasure held nothing to the pleasure with one he _cared_ for.

The black Knight clung to his mate's frame, nipping at his jaw and cheek armor, working his way down to Dai Atlas' throat. The fingers of one hand continued to stroke under the rim of the heavy blue helmet, seeking out all of the really sensitive spots he'd found over the vorns. Love and devotion flowed along the bond between the two mechs as the charge built, powered by the firing of tightly packed sensor nodes in spike and valve.

Dai Atlas tipped his helm to the side, giving both fingers and mouth more access. A tiny part of him thought this was going too quickly, but he ignored it as the first whips of energy began to dance across his frame and leap to Axe's plating.

~I never want another after you,~ Dai Atlas moaned across the bond, more sensations than words.

~Nor I, after you,~ Axe agreed, taking advantage of the better access to sneak his fingers into a seam between blue metal and the cabling of Dai Atlas' neck. His glossa probed between the cables and tubes of his mate's throat, pausing to nibble delicately at a control line. The fingers of his other hand worked into a wing joint, stroking over the hydraulics and the wiring.

It was all Dai Atlas could take. With a bellowed roar his frame went stiff and his hips drove against Axe's, the only movement a twitching grind as energy and charged transfluid erupted into Axe's valve. Axe threw back his helm, howling out his own overload. Belatedly he hoped the apartment had been soundproofed, then mentally shrugged and dismissed the thought. His valve calipers clamped down on Dai Atlas' spike, milking out every last drop of transfluid. Charge crackled over black plating, dancing and arcing between armor points.

That moment of absolute vulnerability heightened the sensation for both mechs, who would always be military in their base coding.

"Love you," Dai Atlas managed to moan, his frame and voice trembling as he slowly began to unlock, his armor flared to vent heat.

Axe vented heavily under him, lifting a hand to run his palm over Dai Atlas' helm, tracing the edge of a golden crest. "Love you, too," he murmured, fluffing his armor. Unhooking his ankles, he lowered his legs, one dangling off the couch. That made the hard spike still deep inside him rub against his valve in entirely new ways. A mewling moan and shiver came from it and prompted Dai Atlas to roll his hips.

"More?" Dai Atlas rumbled into a nipping kiss to Axe's throat.

Axe tilted his helm to nip at the center crest of his mate's helm, rolling his hips into Dai Atlas'. "Oh yes," he purred in response.

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Axe kept his expression neutral, optics and sensors on the mecha escorting the two Knights toward the Prime's office. He hadn't missed the flare of recognition that had gone through their escort when they saw just who they were escorting, nor did Axe miss the occasional glances flicking toward the long, gleaming blades Dai Atlas and Axe wore on their backs. Clamping down on his nerves, the black and gold triple changer did his best to keep from fidgeting, trying to mimic his mate's calmness.

~It will be worth it, no matter how this ends,~ Dai Atlas caressed his spark.

~It's still more than a little nerve-wracking.~ Outwardly, Axe's expression didn't change. ~Let's get this over with.~

~We will,~ Dai Atlas promised as they entered the waiting room for the Prime's office and passed through it to the office.

It had changed little in the vorns this new mech had been in residence. Yet the greatest difference was in the feel of the place with that new mech at its center. Sentinel Prime was a golden and orange mech, far different from the black and deep purple of his predecessor.

"Dai Atlas, Axe," the new Prime spoke as he stood. "Welcome. I am pleased you chose to speak to me."

"Sentinel Prime." Axe and Dai Atlas inclined their helms slightly in unison, regarding the new Prime. He didn't look anything like Nova Prime had, and at first glance had none of the madness that had driven his predecessor. Though it still remained to be seen whether or not that was true.

"I understand that my predecessor refused to accept your buyout and declared you both deserters," Sentinel Prime spoke smoothly. "I would hear why you chose to leave the military."

"We had had enough of the fighting, the fuelshed, the genocides against alien races," Dai Atlas answered. "Both myself and my mate had seen far too much of war. We no longer wanted any part of it."

"Have you kept up on politics since I became Prime?" he asked, motioning the pair to one of the few additions to the office: a seating area for intimate talking.

"The place where we ended up is isolated and has almost no contact with the outside. What news we get is brought back by those who go out to spend time in the outside world before returning, and it is always vorns out of date by the time it reaches us. We did not learn of Nova Prime's death until more than sixteen vorns after it happened." Warily, Dai Atlas settled into a chair, his Great Sword shifting against his back. Axe settled on the edge of another chair, the tip of his Great Sword almost touching the floor.

Sentinel Prime accepted that with a slight nod. "Energon?"

Politeness dictated that they should accept, even if eons of wariness insisted otherwise.

"Please," Dai Atlas decided for them.

A sleek blue and purple femme appeared shortly with a single large carafe and three cubes on a tray that she set down on as small table. All three cubes were poured in clear sight of the ancient warriors. Dai Atlas was offered the first choice of cubes on the tray, then Axe had his choice, with the Prime taking the one they left.

It went against protocols of the highest in rank being served first, but the understanding look the Prime offered them spoke of experience trying to make peace with old warriors his predecessor had alienated. So did the fact that the Prime drank first. He took more than a sip, too. Assurances to mecha who had good reason to fear poison that there was none.

"I have reversed many of my predecessor's policies. In the beginning, he may have had good intentions, but by the end he was truly insane, consumed by power and his own nature. We are no longer an expanding empire. Those worlds that he did not conquer I have pulled troops from. The military will be a defensive force under my rule."

The tense set of Dai Atlas' wings, visible only to his mate or another flier, began to relax, long wings settling back into their usual positions. Axe shifted slightly, relaxing ever so slightly himself.

"That is good to hear," Dai Atlas noted, taking a sip from his cube. "However, we will not be returning to the military. We have a new place, a new life."

"Then I regret that he cost me your service," Sentinel Prime said easily, even if he did nothing to hide the honest disappointment. "I am well aware of how much you have seen, and how many Primes you have seen fall to their weaknesses." He paused at the tension that flashed through both his guests. "I _know_ you have experienced many that are not spoken of," he tapped his chest where the Matrix of Leadership resided. "Even if they have been scrubbed from the databases and memory cores of most, nothing can remove them from Matrix of Leadership that every Prime is bonded to. I am also well aware of the few who remember them all."

"We have seen too much," Dai Atlas agreed, his wings lowering back into place. "The military is no longer our place, and we will never return to it."

"What about as an adviser?" Sentinel Prime asked with another sip of the fine high grade.

"No," the blue-armored former general shook his helm. One large hand lifted to brush absently against the heavy swordhilt showing over one shoulder. "We are Knights of Light now."

There was a lengthy pause as the young Prime searched for what that meant. Gradually he nodded. "I see. There is nothing I can offer to change your processors?"

"There is nothing you can offer us." It was Axe who responded this time. "We have everything we could need or want."

"Very well," Sentinel Prime inclined his helm. "I wish you a long and peaceful existence. Your wisdom will be missed."

Dai Atlas inclined his helm in response. "Thank you."

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"That went far better than I hoped," Axe admitted as they set down on Titanium's balcony.

"It did," Dai Atlas agreed, his wings flaring and settling. "He is far more than disappointed, but I believe him that we are free."

Axe nodded slowly as he walked inside. "At least we won't have to be watching over our shoulders while we're away from the Citadel. Very preferable to the alternative."

"Agreed," he rumbled before catching his mate by the shoulders and pulled him in for a hard, hungry kiss. "So what else do you want to do to explore civilian society while we are in Iacon?"

~We've only ever been in the upper levels of the city,~ Axe pointed out through their bond, returning the kiss with equal ferocity. ~We've never been in the lower levels, the smaller market districts. Perhaps we could do some exploring down there?~

~Yes,~ Dai Atlas agreed with a throaty rumble. ~Perhaps pick up an orn job or two while we wander. It would be good to have a few more credits.~

~Sounds good. And yes, it would be good to have extra credits. You never know when we might need them.~ Axe wrapped his arms around his mate's larger frame, tugging Dai Atlas toward the berthroom they'd settled into. He could feel it in the bond, the desires his mate rarely gave in to. Right now, however, Dai Atlas _needed_ Axe to take control, to take him in every sense.

The black mech purred into the kiss, urging Dai Atlas toward their berthroom. Not breaking the kiss, he managed to get himself and his mate into their room, backing the larger mech over to the soft, comfortable berth. Dai Atlas willingly submitted to the direction, lying back as soon as the back of his knees touched the berth and drawing Axe down with him, on top of him.

The warmth of his mate's frame over his felt _so_ good.

Axe settled over the larger mech, between his blue-plated mate's legs. Nipping at Dai Atlas' lower lip, the black mech let his hands trail over his mate's frame. Dark fingertips stroked along seams, here and there dipping in to brush over the circuitry underneath. One hand slid over Dai Atlas' hip, reaching down to teasingly trace the edge of his valve cover. It snapped open with a burst of _desire-ohPrimusyes_ across the bond.

Dai Atlas gasped and rolled his hips upward, pressing into the touch he felt too rarely.

"You want me in here?" Axe purred, tracing his fingers over the edges of the platelets, feeling lubricants oozing out onto his fingers. His spike was pressing against its cover, demanding release.

"Yes," Dai Atlas' entire frame reacted arched and pressed into the touch, even more lubricant oozing into his valve as he reached for Axe's shoulders, trying to pull him for a kiss.

The black mech allowed it, his free hand reaching around Dai Atlas side to run along the red leading edge of a folded wing, tugging at the appendage until folded wings spread open. The index finger of his other hand slowly pressed through the platelets into Dai Atlas' valve, finding and stroking over a sensor node.

His mate nearly keened, his entire frame shaking at the attention, the bond alive with intense desire and memories of how _good_ it felt to have Axe fill him.

Axe's spike cover popped open, his spike promptly pressurizing out of its housing. The black mech slowly withdrew his finger, lifting his hand and making a show of licking the lubricant off while brushing the tip of his spike against the platelets. A shiver ran up and down his backstrut at the contact while Dai Atlas' optics flared brightly.

"Tease," Dai Atlas gasped as another tremor of desire crashed through him.

"You know you love it," Axe crooned. Bracing himself, stroking one palm over the expanse of a spread wing, the black mech pressed his spike through the platelets, hilting himself with one smooth motion.

"Yessss!" Dai Atlas moaned, the calipers of his valve rippling along the welcome intrusion, squeezing and stroking flexible lining along hard, hot spike. His hands came up to stroke Axe's chest as his hips rolled into the thrust and ground against Axe's.

Axe echoed the moan, his plating rattling softly as his frame trembled. He held still for a moment, then began to move, thrusting into his mate's valve. The black mech shifted his hips to adjust the angle, setting a hard, fast pace that Dai Atlas matched and encouraged with loud moan.

~Love you,~ Dai Atlas cried out as the charge quickly build in his circuits. As much as he enjoyed pounding into Axe, it felt so very good the other way around.

Axe pressed his palm against the plane of one wide wing, over one of the sensors. His engine roared, vibrating through his frame, setting off the sensors all through Dai Atlas' wing. Leaning down, Axe nipped and licked at his mate's throat and jaw, nuzzling against his cheek armor. ~Love you so very much,~ he purred in response.

~Spark, please,~ Dai Atlas trembled, his entire frame driving into each touch, each thrust and spike of pleasure. His chest plates unlocked and began to spread, desperate to share the overload in that most intimate of ways.

Black and gold chestplates immediately parted, blue light gleaming out, glittering off Axe's gold trim and Dai Atlas' blue plating. Axe's spark chamber was already opening, threads of energy reaching out as his spark reached for its other half. Red tendrils reached for blue, dancing along the lengths of lightning before twining tightly into rich purple cords that bound their sparks together and dragged each orb closer.

Axe moaned deeply, pressing his chest against Dai Atlas', his hips faltering in their steady pace as spark contact took precedence over physical stimulation. Blue optics dimmed as the black mech turned his attention to the merge of sparks, burying his face against his mate's neck, armor standing on end to vent the building heat. Powerful arms wrapped around him, holding him as their frames went on autopilot.

It was all about the pure glory of merging their very life forces now. Emotions, pleasure, thoughts ... it all slipped from one to the other smoothly. Dai Atlas' _need_ for his mate and the stability, the refuge, Axe was for him from his gift and all it had brought him.

Axe's love and devotion flowed through the bond, wrapping around Dai Atlas's spark. A soft cry escaped unnoticed from the sheer intensity of the joining, blue optics flicking off entirely. Their sparks were making still amends to each other for the pain that had ended their mating flight not a decaorn before.

Passion matched pain. Love soothed hurt. Uncountable millennia made even Axe's great lifespan seem short.

Slowly, slowly, the memory of that pain ebbed away, swamped by love and passion. There would be no pain this time.

The charge built and built between them, finally crashing over them in a storm of light and heat and energy, sizzling along their circuits and dancing over their plating. Their cries went unheard, unheeded by their frames as the bliss obliterated any thought, leaving them pleasantly sated and content not to move a thing for several joors.

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Axe and Dai Atlas had never been into the lower levels of a Cybertronian city before. This was the first time they had ever ventured down that far, and the feeling it gave Axe at least could be regarded as a form of culture shock. Dai Atlas, sparked to be a command officer, was in no better shape. Yes, they had both seen what was thought was all there was to be seen as a military mecha, but three long strides into this underworld of their homeworld, the place of the forgotten, and they realized just how critical that 'military' was to the description of their knowledge.

This place was as alien to them as any world they had conquered for the empire.

Black plating pulled tighter to Axe's frame as he stared at the cramped streets, the filth accumulating unchecked along the rust-edged walls. The mecha there weren't in much better shape, their finish pitted and scarred, rust showing on battered armor, paint dull and dirty. Narrow, wary optics regarded these two intruders into their world, taking in their polished frames and the long blades they carried.

~I had no idea anything like this existed on Cybertron,~ Axe finally said, glancing at his mate.

~I had no idea it had ever been permitted to develop,~ Dai Atlas stopped a shudder from becoming physical. ~No wonder there have been rumblings of rebellion if this exists under the _Prime's_ very pedes.~

The black mech shifted uncomfortably. ~And I would bet this isn't even the worst of it. There are lower levels, and they are likely to be far worse. How could this ever been allowed to get this bad?~

A haunted look crossed Dai Atlas' optics as he glanced at his mate. ~A Prime focused on expanding, rather than caring for what he had. More than one Prime corrupted by politics and the power they wielded.~ His optics dimmed in shame. ~Mecha of power and influence that could never be bothered to look past what was outside their windows.~

Axe's dark hand curled around Dai Atlas' white. Blue optics met dulled red. ~A situation like this will not be easy to reverse, especially considering how long these conditions must have existed. If any of the mecha in power can even be bothered to try.~

~I doubt any of them _know_~ Dai Atlas settled his wings and looked around once more. ~Or wish to know. I'm not even sure where to start explaining, much less what to do about it.~

~I doubt most of them _care_,~ Axe replied. ~There are many, many ranking mecha who only care about their own power, and don't give a turbo-rat's aft about those they consider beneath their notice.~

Black armor remained tight against Axe's frame. Some of the looks they were getting made him wary, though the resident mecha seemed disinclined to challenge strangers the size and obvious fighting type of Dai Atlas and Axe.

~I ... am not inclined to explore further this orn,~ Dai Atlas remained physically still, but his processors were already trying to retreat. He could do nothing for these mecha at the moment. He no longer had the authority to order anything and never had the financial means to tackle something this big. _If_ he was going to become involved, he would need time to think, to plan, and quite possibly decide just how much he was willing to give up to help.

Axe's hand tightened on his mate's. ~Then let's go back to the apartment. I'm not in much better shape than you are right now. Let's get out of here.~ His turbines revved up to full power, ready to lift off when his mate did. They made short work of the twisting path back to open sky, where Dai Atlas suddenly powered his engines to full and roared into the upper atmosphere without a thought to his mate.

Axe followed, though at a slightly slower pace. He'd seen this before, and knew that his mate needed to get things out of his system. The black mech trailed Dai Atlas across the sky, watching as other fliers darted out of the way of the fast moving giant. He watched as one Aerial all but chassis-tackled his companion to get him out of the way, then helped him to settle on his wings again.

It was three joors and some, and a loop around the smaller moon and back, before Dai Atlas ruffled his wings and armor and settled into a more civilized flight path towards the apartment.

Once the larger mech had calmed down somewhat, Axe settled back into place next to Dai Atlas, radiating calm through the bond. He gently brushed the tip of his wing against the blue mech's. ~Got it out of your system now, love?~

~Enough of it to _think_ at least,~ he half muttered. ~I wonder how much our service is really worth.~

If Axe had been in mech form he would have reached out to grasp his mate's armor. ~I'm not sure how much can be done. Those areas are very well entrenched by now. What we saw was bad enough, and this is the capitol. Other cities will be worse. Correcting the situation would take resources most of the ranking mecha will not want to provide.~

Dai Atlas wavered in the air. ~So we go back to the Citadel and pretend we saw nothing?~

~I didn't say that,~ Axe replied. ~I'm just not sure what can be done. The nobles and the wealthy mecha have a vested interest in maintaining the status quo. There will be lot of resistance.~ He flicked wings and plating in the alt-mode version of a helpless shrug.

~There always will be,~ Dai Atlas agreed, transforming as he came in for a landing. ~Change is never welcomed by those in charge. I conquered a thousand worlds for Cybertron, half the known universe, exterminated hundreds of races, yet the people exist like that...~

Axe landed beside his mate, stepping closer to lean against blue armor and quickly found himself embraced tightly as Dai Atlas tried not to shake. ~It's is a very difficult thing to take in, that our own people could be so neglected. I just don't see any way to change things without an immense amount of resistance and delays.~ Helpless frustration accompanied the words.

~Surely it is worth the effort, though?~ Dai Atlas looked at his mate, honestly uncertain if it was their battle to fight.

~There have probably been mecha trying to help since those areas first developed, yet very little, if anything, has changed.~ Axe rested his helm against Dai Atlas' shoulder. He shared his mate's frustration and distress; he just couldn't see any way to improve the situation. There were too many mecha intent on preserving the status quo, many of them in very powerful positions.

Dai Atlas' chin rested on Axe's helm as they found a smooth, calming balance in each other, physically and emotionally. ~And when the people revolt?~

Axe let out a huge sigh. ~I just don't know, Dai. As much as I hate to admit it, that _might_ be the only way to change things. I just don't know.~

~I see three paths we can take with this,~ the General was back in full force. ~We can put full effort into fixing it. We can do our time out here and return to the Citadel to ignore it. We can kindle the revolt that is brewing.~

Axe huffed. ~I would much rather not be associated with a revolt. We spent more than enough time branded as criminals by Nova Prime. Primus only knows what might happen if we did start a revolt. Sentinel knows we are Knights; linking us with a revolt could bring the Citadel and the other Knights, and our precious jetling, under fire. On the other hand, we are just two mecha, and the scale of the problem would probably swallow our best efforts without even a burp.~ He looked up, his optics dark and troubled.

~Our jetling...~ Dai Atlas shuddered at the thought of putting Wing in any more danger than Primus required. ~Return to the Citadel, and prepare it for the coming revolt.~

Axe nodded. ~As best we can.~

~We _will_ protect him,~ Dai Atlas growled, full of determination. ~We won't lose another.~

Agreement swirled through the bond. ~We will keep him safe.~ The black mech tugged his mate into the apartment, closing the balcony doors after them. He'd noted the beginnings of an ion storm while they had been flying.

It was enough to settle Dai Atlas' processors. Right or wrong, the good of his own overruled the good of the many. Wide wings flicked, then settled. ~Pool?~

Axe nodded, his plating loosening. Taking his mate's hand, he tugged Dai Atlas toward the washrack and the large hot oil pool it contained. With Titanium being _old_ when Dai Atlas had been sparked, all three shared a love of the hot oil pool and the soothing pleasure it brought. Sensors told them that it was nearly up to temperature when they entered the room, a space kept warmer than most of the apartment whenever someone was in residence.

With a backward step into a smooth, oil-supported freefall, Dai Atlas tugged his mate in with him until they were standing up do Axe's chin in simmering oil.

Axe let out a deep sigh, flaring his armor to let the hot oil into his circuitry, warmth spreading through his frame. He leaned against Dai Atlas, turning off his optics for a long moment and just enjoying the soothing heat before looking up to meet red optics. ~Any thoughts on where to go from here?~

~We'll need to find piecemeal work to support ourselves, but in the long run I wish to connect with old allies and get enough information to prepare the Citadel for what is coming,~ he murmured, his arms wrapped around his mate, joints and armor loose to take in the swirling liquid heat. ~A lot of mecha should be favorably disposed towards helping me.~

~There should be opportunities in the mid-levels. It might take some poking around, but I'm certain we'll find something.~ Axe nodded. ~The more information, the better. Then, when we return to the Citadel, we can start on getting the others to listen to us.~

~If Vanguard will not listen, we will simply have to ensure that I become Sovereign, soon,~ Dai Atlas kissed him softly. ~But for tonight, we have each other, a wonderful hot oil bath, and the best non-sparked berths credits can buy.~

Axe returned the kiss, purring warmly. ~I think you have the best chance of reaching that rank. But first, you have to make Master rank. Which means taking on an Initiate of your own. But that's in the future.~ The black and gold triple changer wrapped his arms around his mate's frame, stroking his back gently.

~Yes, it is,~ he shivered in anticipation of his mate's mood and slid his hands down Axe's back to draw him into his lap as he sat down on the bench around half the side of the pool. ~I want you at my side, my SIC as you have long been.~

The black mech settled onto Dai Atlas' lap. ~That's where I _plan_ on being,~ he murmured in response, rubbing his cheek against the larger mech's. ~I'll always be at your side, beloved.~

~As I will always be at your side,~ Dai Atlas promised, hugging his mate close and returned the nuzzled affection. ~We will make sure our command is ready for all that comes its way.~

Axe hummed his agreement as he nuzzled against his mate, stroking one long, wide wing. Tucking his helm under Dai Atlas' chin, the black mech purred contentedly.

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~I haven't worked my frame that hard in ages,~ Dai Atlas groaned as he stretched to settled abused cables and plating back in place.

~Neither have I,~ Axe replied, stretching and groaning as something popped in his back. ~It could be worse, though. Somehow.~

"Hay, mah mecha," an entirely too chipper voice called up to them, drawing their attention to the strong but lithe silver mech that barely reached Dai Atlas' knee. "Join us for a drink or two?"

"I certainly wouldn't mind," Axe replied. "The way my back feels right now, I could certainly use a drink." He ruffled black plating to settle it, dislodging a bit of debris that had gotten caught under an armor plate.

"Then come on," the silver mech grinned, all but bouncing on his pedes. "Ah'm Chipper, by the way."

~He reminds me of Wing a little too much,~ Dai Atlas commented silently as he resisted the urge to scoop the minibot up.

"Axe," the black mech replied, chuckling. ~Just without the wiggly little wings and the habit of riding on your shoulders.~

"Dai Atlas," he added, containing his mirth to his bond as they followed Chipper out of the warehouse to join a dozen other orn workers who'd been moving freight in and out of transports with them. ~I think this one would get very used to the ride.~

"But you carry a sword and ... well okay, you do look like you have Primus' weight on your shoulders," Chipper commented as he waved and whistled greetings to others.

"Left my ax home," the black mech chuckled, nodding greetings to the other workers as he and his mate joined them. "Your designation certainly suits you." ~At least you're used to someone riding on your shoulders, so he probably won't get swatted off if he takes it into his helm to try,~ he teased through the bond.

~I'm used to _Wing_ on my shoulder,~ he corrected.

~And Snapjaw, and Dagger, and...~

~All right, all right, I get it,~ Dai Atlas swatted his mate playfully.

"Why are you doing orn work when you have weapons and credits like that?" One of the others asked as the entire group headed for the nearest bar.

"It's something we're required to do by the laws of where we live. After living and working in the outside world for a couple of centuries, we return home and pass on our skills to the next generation." Axe shifted an armor plate, adjusting Sentry of Balance's position on his back ever so slightly. "And we're required to keep our swords with us."

"So yu're look'n ta pick up ah trade?" Chipper perked up at their description. "Where do you live? I never heard of laws like that."

"The middle of nowhere, basically," Axe replied. "And yes, we are looking to pick up one or more trades."

"Preferably ones not related to fighting," Dai Atlas added.

"So you're doing this for?" someone nearly demanded.

"Living credits," Dai Atlas answered smoothly. "They give us a few supplies to get us started, but only enough for a decaorn or so. We're expected to work to live like any other mecha out here."

"Any trades you're keen on?" Chipper asked, now in alt mode to keep up with the much larger mecha.

"We're not sure yet. So we're probably going to be moving around quite a bit, seeing what's available until we find something that appeals to us." Axe shrugged.

"That's the other thing we're supposed to do; travel a lot," Dai Atlas added. "To see as much of Cybertron and what it has to offer as we can."

"So you'll be moving on soon?" Chipper guessed.

"We will be moving on, though I can't exactly say when. First we will be having a look around to see what else is available here." The black mech looked ahead as their destination came into view. It was a simple place, cheap, really. Like nowhere the officers would have even known about, but utterly suited to the wages they were paid for their work.

"You don't seem the kind that does this for a function," Dai Atlas commented to Chipper.

"I don't," the little silver vehicle bounced on his tires. "Like you, it's energon money for a decaorn or two before I move on. I don't have to explore, but I love it dearly. Existence would be so dull without new experiences."

"Some like it dull," a worker grumbled at him.

"Just not me," Chipper shot back with an audible grin.

"I would get bored pretty quickly if there wasn't anything new to experience," Axe noted. "But then, I'm not that used to a dull life. It's still preferable to fighting, though."

The group flowed inside, finding one of the larger tables. Once again, Dai Atlas' size made finding a place to sit awkward, leading to the usual teasing from his mate before everyone settled down. Chipper took much more teasing, as his small size meant he quickly gave up and just sat on the table. In this group, large size was more asset than impedance.

"So you don't know what you want to do, where you're going or when," Chipper grinned at the pair. "You sound like my kind of travelers."

"We're former military. We have a lot to learn about non-military life." Axe lifted one shoulder in a shrug, taking a drink of his energon. It wasn't the best brew around, but it was drinkable and it was cheap.

"If you never need credits fast, look for an arena," someone suggested gruffly. "Pays well, if you survive."

~I didn't realize _civilians_ liked death sport,~ Dai Atlas grumbled silently.

~If memory serves, I think I recall hearing that Titanium was an arena fighter before he went military. Long before our time,~ Axe commented after a moment. ~Something to ask him the next time we cross paths with him.~ He ruffled black armor. "That's a route I would much rather not take. We have seen quite enough of fighting while we were in the military. Fighting other mechs in an arena for entertainment does not appeal to me in the least."

"It's still an option," one of the others pointed out, taking a swig of high-grade.

"If we become that desperate," Dai Atlas agreed simply to avoid an argument that no one could win. ~Yes, but it's still ... disappointing.~

Axe reached over to curl his hand around his mate's. ~It is. I can't fathom why it would be at all popular or even allowed.~ He took another drink, looking around the bar idly.

~Probably the same reason the lower levels are the way they are,~ Dai Atlas sighed across the bond.

"You have a place to recharge?" someone asked.

"Yes, a friend is letting us stay at their place for now," Dai Atlas answered.

"If you need a berth, say something," the mech nodded. "There are places that don't cost much, even on our pay."

~Most likely.~ Axe nodded to the speaker. "We will keep that in mind. It will be good to know when we head to the next city."

"Are you heading for any city in particular, or just picking a direction and seeing where you end up?" another mech wondered.

"Eventually we'd like to see each of the major cities and a few small settlements," Dai Atlas explained. "Central City is next though. I have an old friend there that should be willing to let us stay for a few orns."

"Central City is cool, if seriously regulated in the weirdest way," Chipper spoke up. "It's all data crunchers and news staff."

"Central City sounds like it'll be an interesting spot." Axe picked up his cube, taking a drink.

"Depending on where you're going, sometimes you can see stunt jets practicing over the plains," a mech who had been silent until that point chose to chime in.

"It makes sense," Dai Atlas hummed. "Open skies to work in, less chance of running into someone." ~I wonder if they're the ones who commissioned Wing.~

~There aren't that many stunt jet clans that I've heard of. They very well may be.~ Axe made a mental note to keep an optic open for them while he and Dai Atlas were traveling from one city to another. "That would be something to see. We'll keep an optic open."

~If we _look_ I'm sure we could cross paths with the right clan to _talk_ with,~ Dai Atlas rumbled quietly. "Have you ever seen a performance?"

~And since we're going to be doing a lot of traveling, we will have many opportunities to look,~ Axe agreed.

About half of the group nodded. "Once a vorn or so they come into the city to put on a performance, or they hold it just outside the city. More open space, better to watch them without all of the buildings being in the way."

"Who pays for the performance?" Dai Atlas abruptly asked. "It's not like they can charge admission to watch."

One of the other workers shrugged. "Dunno. Probably the wealthy mecha. All I know is, they start broadcasting notices about the show a few orns in advance. Lets everyone know where and when the show will be taking place."

Dai Atlas nodded and willingly faded into the background of the conversation with his mate while the talk turned to more normal subjects, mostly work prospects over the decaorn.

By the time the Knights returned to their apartment, they'd spent more than they'd intended and consumed more high grade than either wanted, but they were both feeling fuzzily warm and still flying steady.

Considering how much high grade they had consumed, getting back to the apartment without flying into anyone or anything left Axe with a vague feeling of accomplishment. Touching down on the balcony, he stretched from helm to pede, hydraulics and cables complaining throughout his frame. Wincing faintly, he looked over at Dai Atlas. ~Are you still as sore as I am?~

~At least as sore,~ he admitted, opening the door to enter. ~I'm so looking forward to a long oil bath and recharge on that berth. Titan has great taste.~

~If we don't end up recharging in the bath,~ Axe pointed out, following his mate inside. He detoured to the kitchen to grab a couple of regular energon cubes, digging in one of the cupboards for the additives he and Dai Atlas preferred. ~And yes, he does. When we get back to the Citadel, I am saving my credits to outfit our berth the way Titan did his.~

~Very much agreed,~ Dai Atlas' wings quivered at the thought. ~Who knows, maybe one of our trades will earn us enough to save some before we go back. I'm going to miss his taste in berths when we leave.~

~I most certainly hope so, and yes, I'm also going to miss his taste in berths.~ Axe placed the cubes and the additives on the rim of the pool, within reach but not close enough to get knocked into the oil by accident and joined his mate in the simmering liquid with a deep groan.

~At least while we're here, even that job will afford us some savings since we don't have to pay for lodging,~ Dai Atlas turned his optics off and sank fully under the oil. ~I understand that otherwise we'd be scraping by with low grade and a single hard berth between us most orns.~

Axe's groan expressed what he thought about that. ~And that is something I am not looking forward to.~ Flaring out his armor, the black mech followed his mate's example, sinking down to sit on the bottom of the pool, fully submerged in the welcome heat.

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Axe hummed absently to himself as he and his mate flew, heading to yet another city. Their leaving the last city had been delayed by an intense storm, which had kept them inside for another orn and a half. After the weather had finally cleared, they had taken off. The pair were several joors out when something caught Axe's optic. Startled out of his thoughts, the black mech turned his sensors toward the gleaming shapes off to one side of their flight path. It took him a moment to realize he was seeing a group of jets, performing intricate maneuvers in the air. ~Dai, look!~

The larger jet turned his sensors more fully on the skydancers some distance away. ~Check them out?~ he queried.

~I think we should take a closer look.~ Axe noted one of the jets pulling off a maneuver he'd only seen once before, when Wing had been showing off over the Citadel. Banking toward the dancing jets, Axe focused his sensors onto them, watching them. He could feel his mate doing the same, and felt when recognition of the move hit Dai Atlas as well.

They both caught the automated warning ping that they were about to enter closed airspace and proceeding was a safety hazard.

~For normal mecha perhaps,~ Dai Atlas snorted as they ignored the ping and proceeded, ready to get out of the way if need be.

As the two larger mechs approached, they got a better look at the skydancers, watching them weave and dart around each other. They were small compact jets with short, slender, curved wings, the same frametype as the jetling Axe and Dai Atlas had adopted.

Both caught the moment when the smaller jets realized they were about to have visitors. Practiced maneuvers became a chaotic swirl of engines and wings as the flock reacted, then descended toward the group of buildings and the expansive landing field that was their home base.

Without a word Dai Atlas angled in for a landing amongst them, initiating his transformation sequence to mech mode to land on his pedes, taking in the gathering around him with sharp red optics.

~I think we have found the right clan,~ Axe noted, landing next to his mate, blue optics narrowed slightly as he scanned the assembled mecha.

The smaller jets gathered in a crowd to look at their visitors, though they maintained a slight distance. Though they were clearly curious, they kept their expressions neutral and their fields close to their frames. Finally, one of them, a femme of turquoise green with peacock-blue trim and amber optics, stepped forward.

"It is not often we get visitors here," she commented as she approached, followed by a mech of white with green and orange trim. "What is it that brings you to the Dancing Wind Aerobatics clan?"

"We saw you practicing and believe we know one of yours," Dai Atlas said evenly. "Wing shares your frametype."

The femme's expression went from polite curiosity to a scowl. "Wing." The way she said the designation made it a curse. "He is not one of ours."

Axe rumbled low in his throat, black plating starting to fluff ever so slightly in a threat display.

Dai Atlas' scowl matched hers, only backed by the status that had never completely left him. "He _was_ yours, Sundance, Skystorm." He gave designations of the lead pair. "You commissioned him."

"We commissioned a flier for our lead acrobatic team," the femme, Sundance, replied stiffly. "What we got was a creature who would not take direction or obey orders. He is not ours."

"He takes them fine, if you bother to teach him how," Dai Atlas growled. "Something you couldn't do, it seems. He complies to _us_ well enough."

Skystorm's optics narrowed. "Just who are you two?"

"We commissioned him, and he proved useless to us," Sundance snapped. "He had no discipline and kept breaking formation whenever he felt like it."

Axe growled, his plating fluffing. "You discarded him like a piece of scrap just because he didn't fit in with what you wanted him to be." One hand tightened into a fist, metal creaking.

"We have no use for the likes of him," Skystorm flicked a wing dismissively. "That's what you do with those who can't earn their keep, and never will."

"We are his creators now," Dai Atlas rumbled, his wings flaring with a distinct show of pride in the fact. "He has grown into a fine mech."

"One day he'll prove as useless to you as he was to us," Sundance predicted. "He's nothing but a burden, good for nothing. You'll see."

The black Knight showed his dental plates in a snarl. "Wing is a fine young mech, a skilled skydancer, and is ranked Master in his chosen profession. He also has trade skills in architecture and surveying. _You_ merely tried to force him into the role _you_ wanted without even bothering to see if it was what _he_ wanted, and when that failed you just threw him aside like worthless scrap." The words contained enough acid to cause Sundance to flinch away from the much larger mech.

"He is our _creation_," Dai Atlas added with a snarl. "I raised twenty-eight from the orn they were sparked. I never gave up on one and every single one made me proud."

"All he brought us was disappointment," Skystorm snapped back. "He was a failure. He did not belong here, and we are _glad_ to be rid of him."

Axe's response was a particularly rude phrase in ancient Cybertronian, making the smaller jets bristle at the tone, even though they didn't know what he was saying. "You did not even _try_ to find out what he liked. All you could see was what you wanted, and you didn't give him any choice. You had _no right_ to treat him like that, or to throw him aside the way you did!" The black mech loomed ominously over the smaller mecha, and they cringed under his furious glare.

"He is yours," Sundance backed off a step. "He did not belong here."

"You did not deserve a mech like Wing," Axe hissed. "We are _proud_ to claim him as ours. We won't abandon him the way you did."

"We did not want a mech like Wing," Skystorm pointed out. "I believe you should leave now."

Muttering something unintelligible but clearly rude under his breath, Axe gave the two one last glare before turning his back on them. ~Now I understand why Wing was so overjoyed when we adopted him, and why he avoided us for orns after your final trial. Our poor jetling.~

~He's recovered,~ Dai Atlas said as he powered up for liftoff. ~He'll never have to return to them, or seek approval from their like either.~

~And thank Primus for that.~ Axe took off, rising at an angle that allowed hot exhaust from his engines to blow in the direction of Skystorm and Sundance, sending them back a few steps to get out of the way.

~And that he was so happy when we told him,~ Dai Atlas added as he joined his mate with an intentional show of the power his engines were capable of. ~He is not the only one who is lucky.~

Axe hummed his agreement, revving his engines to put distance between himself and the stunt jet clan. ~We are lucky to have him.~

Behind them, the stunt jets watched them go. Sundance and Skystorm were scowling after the two giants, Sundance rubbing at some very minor heat blistering on her paint from Axe's engine exhaust. The rest of the clan had clumped together and were whispering to each other, glancing at their clan leaders.

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Sixty vorns had passed since Dai Atlas and Axe had begun their walkabout, and the pair had arrived in the next city where they would be spending some time, the city of Kaon. Dai Atlas had recalled that their old friend Titanium originally hailed from Kaon, so he had an apartment there, and it had taken some hunting to locate.

Upon locating Titanium's Kaon residence and entering it, Axe had been startled into jumping by the shine of red optics from inside, low to the floor. It had taken him a moment to figure out that the main living area featured a floor covering made from the preserved hide of a fur-and-metal beast with five red optics, three rows of jagged fangs bared in a wicked snarl, and six well-clawed limbs. Battered metal long grayed in death showed on the muzzle, across the shoulders, all six paws, and the hips. Axe had just stared at it for a long moment before deciding to ignore it for the time being.

The pair had spent the rest of the orn flying around the city, following the flight traffic, just looking around. Once night began to settle in, they returned to the apartment.

~From the look of it, this city is one in which to keep a weapon on hand at all times.~ Axe handed his mate an energon cube, picking up another for himself.

~On hand and in sight,~ Dai Atlas agreed as they settled on the couch and Dai Atlas turned on the newsfeed. ~We're already going to be targeted for being outsiders and the quality of our frames.~

The black mech adjusted one of the hip sheaths holding his short swords, leaning against Dai Atlas' side and watching the screen. ~One of those places where we have to be constantly on guard. Joy.~

~At least we have a safe place to recharge,~ Dai Atlas murmured, nuzzling him. ~I would _not_ recharge well if we had to stay in a civvie barracks.~

Axe returned the nuzzle. ~Neither would I. I'd be trying to recharge with a sword in hand. We have a safe, comfortable place to recharge. The security system Titan installed here is impressive.~

~Yes,~ Dai Atlas purred in approval. ~With the same berths and wonderful pool. I get the feeling that we won't be getting much work here.~

~Probably not, from the looks of it. Kaon has a reputation for being a very rough city. Lots of heavy industry, not too many smaller shops. And the infamous arenas I've heard so many rumors about.~ Black plating ruffled briefly. ~I'm looking forward to those berths, that I admit... Those small, hard berths we've been dealing with do absolutely nothing for sore joints.~

~No, though still better than the street,~ Dai Atlas agreed, his wings shuddering slightly in memory of the handful of nights they'd had spent out for one reason or another. ~I really thought nothing was worse than field recharge. At least in the field there were guards you trusted.~

Axe shuddered at the memory. ~Whereas here the only option was to recharge in shifts, to make sure no one tried to sneak up on us. And my frame ached for orns after that.~ He stretched out his legs, one pede toying with the nearest limb of the transorganic floor covering, his gold toe plate poking at the sharp metal claws.

~I'm rather glad that thing isn't alive,~ Dai Atlas chuckled. ~It looks like it would have put up a pit of a fight.~

~Definitely not a beast I would ever want to run afoul of without a high-powered rifle in hand. It certainly makes an impressive trophy, though.~ Axe glanced at the creature's snarling head, with its heavy jaws displaying far too many jagged teeth.

~I wonder how old it is ... or from how far afield.~ Dai Atlas mused. ~It's like nothing I've even heard of.~

The black mech eyed the beast for a long moment. ~My guess, very old. As for the "what" and "from where"... those would be questions for Titan. Though... It sort of reminds me of some of the old myths I remember hearing. About beasts that roamed Cybertron long before our time.~

~Well, he _was_ ancient even when I was young,~ Dai Atlas murmured. ~I've met plenty of things that modern mecha think are myths, even you have. I wouldn't be surprised if he met things that were long gone by my time.~

Axe frowned thoughtfully, searching the depths of his memory for some of those old myths. ~It sort of reminds me of those dusty old stories of techno-organic monsters from before our race began. And yes, that is true. I bet he'd have some very interesting stories to tell if asked about it.~

~Always,~ Dai Atlas snorted. ~One thing Titan was never short on was stories. Many I can even confirm as real. Good stories, most of them.~

~He's certainly had enough time to accumulate stories, and listening to him tell them warded off boredom on many a campaign,~ Axe pointed out. ~He could've been a professional storyteller if he'd wanted to be.~

~Who knows, maybe he will be one orn,~ Dai Atlas smiled and leaned in to kiss his mate. ~I don't know about you, but it's been entirely too long since I indulged in hot oil.~

~Far, far too long,~ Axe agreed, returning the kiss. ~And since our old friend was inclined to spend the credits to have the best hot oil pool available, let's go make use of it.~

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The next orn found Dai Atlas and Axe in Kaon's mid-levels, walking along the streets, taking in the sights and seeing what the mid-levels of the city were like. They had quickly noticed the large numbers of private security mecha around some of the shops, as well as complex and expensive security systems, which hinted that this was indeed a rough place. Many of the residents eyed the two big mecha warily, but the large blades they carried on their backs, the short swords mounted on their hips, and the glinting ax carried pointedly over Axe's shoulder were keeping them at bay for the moment. Few wanted to tangle with such large, well-armed and confident mecha without good reason.

Axe returned one look with a warning glare, resting one hand absently on the pommel of one of his short swords. Both he and his mate were on edge. Kaon was not a city the black Knight particularly wanted to stay around for very long.

The sound of a familiar voice caught Axe's audials, the black and gold triple changer perking up ever so slightly, scanning the crowd for the source. ~Dai? Does that voice sound familiar to you?~

~Chipper, and trouble,~ he responded immediately, his focus shifting to picking out the small silver mech that had become a casual friend in Iacon. With a skill honed on millions of battlefields it didn't take him long, and he guided his mate's gaze to the spot even as they both picked up their pace to intercept.

~Not that trouble seems very hard to come by in this city...~ Axe's optics fixed on the spot, ignoring the mecha who moved out of his way.

"But I'm not a fighter!" Chipper's voice held an edge of real fear as he tried to pull away from the grip of the much larger dark plated mech that had a hand around his arm.

"That would be your problem," the larger one sneered.

"Might I ask why you are harassing our friend?" Axe rumbled, narrowing his optics at the other mech. The dark mech was larger than average, but not by that much, and Axe towered over him. Dai Atlas' made an even more impressive glower behind him.

"Your friend owes ninety-eight thousand credits to my boss," the dark mech actually explained.

"But I _don't_!" Chipper cried out in fearful frustration. "I wasn't even _in_ Kaon three orns ago."

Axe lifted an optic rim ever so slightly. "And just how did that happen?"

"Gambling," the dark mech shrugged.

"Gambling?" Axe gave the much smaller silver mech a look.

A bright blue visor looked back up, the expression around it desperate. "You know me. You know I don't bet what I can't afford to loose. I wasn't even _in the city_ when this mech says it happened!"

"We do know you." Axe's optics shifted to the dark mech, narrowing. "Let go of our friend."

"I will if you pay his debt," the dark mech returned the glare. "Someone is going to."

Axe's glare didn't budge from the dark mech. ~We don't _have_ that many credits...~

~Not even a fraction of it,~ Dai Atlas muttered. ~But we _can_ fight.~

Unease swirled through the bond. ~I would rather not go that route, but Chipper is a friend, and we do help our friends.~

~Better for _us_ to fight than him. You know he wasn't kidding about not knowing how to fight,~ Dai Atlas sighed. ~I'd rather fight than gamble for the credits.~ "What are the terms of the fight to pay his debt?"

The dark mech looked startled, but quickly scrambled to comm his boss and relayed what he was told. "Death match against the current champion."

~He can fight a stiff breeze, but that's about all he can fight,~ Axe agreed. His hand tightened on the pommel of his short sword. Against his back Sentry of Balance hummed in growing excitement. "One-on-one, or team match?"

Another pause for a comm exchange. "Team. You can keep any extra credits after his debt is paid."

"Which will be how much?" Dai Atlas asked.

The dark mech cycled his optics with a confused look. "Your winnings are a percentage of the bets."

"Fighting we know. How arena fights work, not so much." Axe's shrug shifted the ax across his back, the blade glinting wickedly.

"You'll learn quick," the dark mech humphed at their ignorance of the city's primary entertainment. "Come on." He turned, never letting go of Chipper's arm. "He'll go when you pay his debt."

Axe rumbled low in his vocalizer, following the other mecha. He was not looking forward to this, but it had to be done.

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The door shut behind them, and the three mechs took in their single cell room that they'd been shown to as their quarters.

"I don't know how I'm going to repay you for this," Chipper watched the pair investigate their tiny domain with a methodical nature that he simply didn't grasp. "I owe you my spark."

Axe leaned against the wall, the gemmed hilt of his Great Sword flaring behind his helm. Drawing his ax, he began to sharpen the blade. "We'll think of something. Eventually."

"Once we are done here, I recommend leaving Kaon quickly," Dai Atlas added as he sat down on the hard berth to polish his short swords. "Once they see us fight there will be an incentive to find a reason to keep us here."

Chipper nodded. "Sticking around is not on my list of good ideas."

"The fewer reasons they find, the better." Axe tested the edge of the ax blade. "We have no intention of being trapped in the arenas." ~Great Swords in subspace for this, love.~ Leaning his ax against the wall, he drew one of his short swords to check the blade.

~No matter how they complain,~ he agreed, moving on to his second short sword. ~It's going to be a long three nights until the fight.~

~A very long three nights,~ Axe agreed. ~My frame is going to be aching from this. After this is over, I think I'm going to spend two orns in Titan's hot oil pool.~ His plating ruffled as he began running a whetstone along the edge of his short sword.

~Agreed,~ Dai Atlas groaned at the thought. ~I think we're bringing Chipper with us, lest he be used to get us back here. I just hope that this turns out to be worth the grief.~

"Guys?" Chipper said uneasily as he looked between them, sure he was missing a lot. "Can I _do_ anything to make this easier?"

Dai Atlas glanced at his mate. ~Trust him to stand guard so we can recharge?~

~He's coming with us, then.~ Blue optics evaluated the small silver mech. ~If anything happens to us, he'll probably be killed in the arena. I think we can trust him to stand guard.~

"Until we're out of here, you can guard us when we recharge, so we are well rested when we fight," Dai Atlas told him.

"No problem," Chipper agreed readily. "I can scream for help with the best of them," he tried to lighten the mood.

Axe snorted. "I see you haven't lost that sense of humor." The black mech settled next to his mate, stretching out his legs as he sheathed his swords again.

"Sometimes it's all you have," Chipper smiled. "Humor, hope and willingness to work can be all you have, but it's always enough to see one through the orn."

"You remind us very much of our sparkling," Axe noted after a moment, leaning absently against Dai Atlas' shoulder. "He has a very similar attitude."

"Sparkling?" Chipper cycled his optic band before grinning. "I didn't think military builds could kindle. Congratulations."

"We can't," Dai Atlas shook his helm. "We're built with inhibiters inherent in our design. We adopted him as an adult, not that you'd know it if it wasn't for his skill with swords and skydancing."

"But he's ours as surely as if we had kindled or commissioned him." Axe fluffed black armor slightly, settling it as his mate slid an arm around him and tugged him close.

"You have something very much worth returning to," Chipper smiled softly at the obvious affection that existed between the ancient warriors and long-time mates. He sat down with his back against the wall and a good view of the entrance the guards came through. "I hope one orn I'll find a mate that cares like you two do."

"You'll find someone, eventually," Axe replied. He leaned his helm against a blue-armored shoulder. "And yes, we do."

"That's what I hope for, and part of why I travel," Chipper smiled as they settled in for recharge, frames and fields meshing together in the way only extreme familiarity allowed. "One orn I'll bond and settle down."

Axe smiled over at the smaller mech, letting his optics dim. "Quick word of advice... Stay out of reach. Our sparkling also got us very used to cuddling, and you're close to his size, so Dai might try to scoop you up in his recharge." He grinned at the response to that he got from his mate, settling down and resting his helm against his mate's as Chipper struggled to contain his giggles.

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The great arena of Kaon was packed. The roar of thousands of mecha talking and yelling to each other could be clearly heard even in the preparation areas, where the combatants underwent their final preparations for the fight.

Axe ran through a warm-up, his short swords slicing the air in a complex pattern. His battle ax rested on his back, crossed over the channel where his Great Sword usually resided. At the moment Sentry of Balance was stored in the ebony Knight's subspace. The blade had not been happy about it, but it had understood, so had refrained from complaining too loudly. Dai Atlas, on the other hand, had gotten more of an audialful from his Strength of Conviction.

For the three orns before the fight, mecha had been coming around to look at the ancient warriors. There had been many murmurs of amazement at the size and probable skill of two seasoned military mecha. Axe had no doubt the hype had been spreading, and that the arena would be packed to the bursting point with spectators, and more importantly, gamblers.

The more the crowd bet, no matter on who, the winner received a cut. A pittance of one at only 3%, but it hadn't taken Chipper long to run some basic numbers based on the capacity of the arena and point out that even if only 50% of the spectators made an average bet of 14 credits, they would come away in the clear and them some. Given betting on the arena fights was _the_ leisure activity in Kaon, they'd likely come away with far more than what Chipper needed, even after paying a good medic to put them back together.

They'd gotten a look at some of their potential opponents, the high-ranking gladiators, and while they agreed that they could take any two of them, they also agreed it was not going to be easy.

Especially if it was Megatron and Lugnut on the other side.

The two ancient mechs had been carefully prepping for the match for the last three orns. Chipper kept watch while they recharged, so the pair were as rested as they could be. Their weapons had been carefully sharpened to a razor edge. They were as ready as they could be.

Axe was not looking forward to this at all. Arena fighting was not a route he would have preferred to take, but Chipper was a friend, and they did help their friends. Ruffling and resettling his armor, Axe waited for the arena doors to open.

Both he and Dai Atlas remained still for a moment, taking in the large field before them, empty and open, but surrounded by stands with cheering, jeering mecha. There was room enough to fly, but not to fly away or engage in complex aerial battles.

~Not again,~ Dai Atlas groaned over the bond as they stepped forward to judge their opponents. ~Lugnut's mine.~

~Holding a bit of a grudge, lover of mine?~ Axe let agreement slip through the bond, turning a narrow-opticked gaze on his own opponent, a giant brass grounder with a tank alt. His grip shifted on the handle of his battle ax, the blade glinting wickedly as he shifted it.

~After what he did to you, to _us_?~ Dai Atlas hissed, his wings flaring in a blatant statement of intent towards the giant green flier. The recognition and intent was returned by Lugnut as the announcer finished riling the crowd and then called for the match to begin.

~Definitely holding a grudge. Not that I blame you. He's all yours.~ Axe advanced on his opponent, optics narrow as he searched for weaknesses.

Lugnut snarled, recognizing the blue giant facing him. "Lugnut smash!"

Like Lugnut, Crusher seemed to be of simple processor, designed for straight forward tactics where overwhelming size, strength and armor won the orn. "Axe will break," the tank rumbled and stalked forward.

"Not likely," the black Knight growled, ax at the ready. He paced forward, optics flicking over his opponent's frame, seeking exploitable weaknesses. Suiting the mech's alt, there really didn't seem to be much. Heavy armor was everywhere, even the weak points of the neck and joints were double reinforced and given heavy flanges for protection.

Crusher lifted the heavy gun on his arm and took aim at Axe's chest.

Axe responded with an interesting profanity, darting forward and out of the way of the blast that nearly grazed his shoulder. As a Knight of Light he carried no ranged weapons and nothing that qualified as an energy weapon. Though heavily armored himself with his second alt being a tank, he preferred closer combat.

With a savage grin Crusher met his charge with one of his own, a heavy energon mace forming from his right hand.

Sparks flew and energy flared as mace and ax collided, the two big mechs testing their strength against each other. Axe's blue optics narrowed as he glared at his opponent, dental plates bared and gritted. After a klik or two, Axe shoved hard against Crusher, twisting his ax free and bringing the razor-sharp blade up in a wicked slash. It cracked hard against advanced military-grade armor, leaving a shallow gash but nothing more across Crusher's collar strut.

In retaliation Crusher slammed his mace down hard against Axe's shoulder.

Axe snarled, taking a single step back. Optics narrow, he brought his ax up into a ready position, circling around his enemy. He watched how his opponent moved, waiting for an opportunity. Crusher was shorter than Axe, but heavier and slower without Axe's half-aerial nature.

His tactics were also far simpler, if well suited to the heavy armored mech. He simply closed again and swung the heavy mace.

The black and gold mech darted out of the way, bringing the ax down into a shoulder joint. Yanking the blade free as quickly as possible, Axe locked onto a seam between armor plates, striking at it. Cut circuits near the surface sparked and sputtered before battle-centric self-repair systems shut down power to those wires. Yet as fast as Axe moved, Crusher was faster with a swing and the heavy spiked mace came crashing into Axe's helm with enough force to snap it to one side.

Axe's optic feed skitzed for a moment. Moving on autopilot, he got out of the way, ax snapping up to block another blow. Twisting his wrist, Axe slid the blade down along the handle of the mace, aiming for its wielder's arm. If he was lucky, he'd damage the system that created the solid-energy weapon. He felt his ax impact the wrist and knock it away, but not the crunch of critical damage.

Crusher snarled at the damage and pulled a long blade from his subspace to give him better close quarters damage capacity.

Narrow blue optics glittered. Axe decided to subspace his ax for the moment, drawing his short swords. Light glittered along the razor cutting edge and beaded on the tip. The ebony triple changer settled into a guard stance briefly, swords up and ready. He caught a glimpse of his mate, heavily dented and scorched, wrestling with Lugnut before Crusher struck at him again with a blow to the helm.

The black mech ducked, bringing up one sword to deflect the mace while striking at the tank mech's arm, hoping to disable the energy mace. Keeping one optic on the blade in Crusher's other hand, Axe moved in to slash at a hip joint, driving the tip of his blade through the seam.

The brass tank snarled in pain and outrage as one leg momentarily went out from under him, but had the combat instincts to use the good one to launch himself backwards, away from Axe, and bring his main gun to bear.

Axe sprang forward, keeping in close. His swords were a blur of edged steel, slashing across every inch of Crusher's armor they could reach. Energon seeped through some of the deep cuts before Crusher managed to kick the Knight away enough to get to his pedes once more.

A series of powerful cannon blasts kept Axe moving until one caught him on the left side of the chest, punching through his thick armor to lodge deep inside him.

The Knight hissed in pain, optics flaring. Pushing the pain aside, he lunged forward, sheathing one sword and grasping the other with both hands, bringing the blade down hard on the barrel of that gun. It sliced in two smoothly, right along with the arm under it, sending both clattering to the ground.

Crusher retaliated with his good arm and the wicked long dagger, slamming it tip-first into Axe's side.

The triple changer snarled in pain, twisting away from the stab. The movement caused the wound to open further, spilling energon over black armor. Axe pulled his other blade from its sheath, aiming one at Crusher's good arm while slashing the other at the brass tank's neck cables.

Crusher reflexively tipped his helm to one side, closing up the small gap between helmet armor and protective neck flange, but he couldn't completely get his left arm clear. The razor sharp blade cut into armor, drawing energon, but nothing more. He twisted that arm, taking more damage in exchange for the opportunity to slash the cables of Axe's wrist.

Energon dripped from the wound, spattering the arena floor. Axe snarled, tightening his grip on the sword hilt to compensate for the weakening. Closing in, he struck at Crusher's arm again, stabbing his other sword into a seam along the side of the tank's chest.

With a screech of pain the bronze tank went down, the light in his optics cutting out as his frame stilled in stasis, but not deactivation.

Axe eyed his fallen opponent for a moment, then brought his ax from subspace, using the tip of the blade to nudge Crusher's helm slightly to the side. Lifting the weapon, he brought it down in one powerful blow, severing Crusher's helm to the roar of the crowd.

Stepping away from the decapitated frame as it began to go gray, he turned toward his mate and Lugnut. His mate was a mess, but so was his opponent. Energon was everywhere, flowing from many cuts to Lugnut's frame, while Dai Atlas sported dents, crushed armor and scorch marks.

Subspacing his ax in favor of his swords, Axe roared and charged in to join his mate. His first stroke left a deep gash across Lugnut's back. The green mech bellowed in rage, swatting at him and taking his optic off Dai Atlas for a moment.

It was all the opportunity Dai Atlas needed to drive a short sword through Lugnut's chest and into his spark chamber.

Lugnut let out one last bellow of pain, his optic going dark. Axe skittered out of the way as the green hulk collapsed, almost pulling the sword from Dai Atlas' hand. Green plating was already graying.

Axe circled around the graying frame to stand at his mate's side. His expression was impassive, hiding the pain he was feeling from his injuries. ~It's over.~

~Yes,~ Dai Atlas looked around the arena crowd for the first time. He could pick out some mecha he knew, though none that surprised him. Megatron was with a group of other high-ranked gladiators, all watching avidly, all expecting to face the pair at some point soon.

The crowd had gone wild.

Axe shifted. ~Our win. Let's collect our winnings, see about getting repaired, grab Chipper, and get our wings out of here. I'm going to spend the next two orns in the hot oil pool.~ He eyed the crowd, glancing warily at the other gladiators.

~Agreed,~ Dai Atlas leaned against his mate in a subtle show of warrior-affection before they turned to the entrance they had come from. It opened for them, admitting them to the dimmer space of the arena underworld.

"This way. We have the top medic in all of Kaon," the arena manager's SIC said and motioned for them to follow.

Axe vented in relief as they passed out of sight of the roaring crowds. Lifting a hand, he rubbed at the impressive dent in the side of his helm, where Crusher's mace had struck. ~That is an experience I never want to repeat. If arenas like this were where Titan came from, I can understand why he would have wanted to get out of them.~

~I think they were worse back then,~ Dai Atlas murmured, willingly following the mech. They both were too damaged to refuse the care. "When do we collect our winnings?"

The purple and blue grounder looked a touch startled, but quickly composed himself. "Once medic Ratchet turns you loose. You know you'll live like Primes if you stay. A show like that is worth top credits."

The obsidian mech grumbled under his breath. "I'll pass on that, thanks..." He leaned on his ax, using it as a walking stick as he followed the grounder toward the medical area.

"I had enough killing in the military," Dai Atlas shook his helm and immediately regretted it as his optical feed swirled and swam briefly. "No more."

"Stop yapping and get your broken afts in here," a deep, irate voice snarled from inside the medical bay.

~Some things never change,~ Dai Atlas chuckled to his mate as they complied.

~Sounds like Hardwing might have some competition in the "cranky medic" department,~ Axe hummed as he walked into the medical bay. Blue optics flicked in the direction the voice had come from, trying to pick out the speaker from the numerous ones moving about. The sense of command and authority centered on a red and white mech with the boxy frame of an ambulance.

Both warriors complied with the imperious motion to get on a berth so the medic, Ratchet, could determine their damages.

Axe groaned softly as he lowered himself onto the medberth, leaning his ax against the side of the berth. The wound on his side let out a fresh spurt of energon, the purplish fluid running over black armor to start forming a small puddle under him. It didn't take long for a different medical mecha to scramble up to patch the obvious damage while Ratchet used far more advanced scanners and knowledge to work out the less obvious issues.

It pretty much added up to a pair of very battered mechs needing repairs. Axe only shrugged one shoulder at the beginnings of the rant and settled in to quietly accept the verbal abuse of being repaired. His mate was doing the same.

Ratchet had them patched up and on their way in less than three joors. It wasn't complete repairs, but it would get them to the next city and a hospital Ratchet recommended on the sly.

Chipper was waiting at the door, under guard, when they emerged and they were escorted to the arena manager's office.

The arena manager gazed at the two giant mechs through narrow optics. "That was quite a show you two put on. Keep performing like that, and you two will be very wealthy mecha."

Axe narrowed his optics. "We don't intend to stay."

"We are done killing," Dai Atlas added firmly, aware of Chipper hiding behind him. "We don't need the credits or the fame."

"A pity. All the top gladiators are looking forward to taking you on, singly or as a team." The manager steepled his fingers, pressing the tips against the nasal of his helm. He regarded the mecha standing in front of his desk. "A very handsome profit was made from this match."

"We're here to collect our winnings, then we are leaving," Axe told him firmly.

"Very well," the manager offered Axe a credit stick. "Keep in mind ... death matches are rare. _Most_ matches are to submission. Good gladiators are too valuable to kill off quickly."

Axe accepted the credit stick, letting out a low whistle as he saw the amount. ~Lover of mine, we won at least three million credits. Even after paying off Chipper's debt, that's a lot of credits. But still, _not_ the way I would have preferred to get them.~ He tucked the credit stick into his subspace.

"Why death matches at all?" Dai Atlas asked. ~Agreed, though it does mean we can focus on learning a trade or two instead of subsistence work.~

"The crowds want fuelshed, so we give them fuelshed. It brings in a lot of credits, a great deal of profit. That's something we can't just ignore." The arena manager shrugged. "And we don't want to."

~And finding slightly better accommodations when we aren't near an old friend who could let us stay with them,~ Axe added. "Those matches are something we want no part of. We will not fight here again."

"You don't need to," the manager tried again. "Your cut is less for a standard match, but as free mecha you can choose the terms of your matches, so long as your opponent agrees."

"We understand," Dai Atlas said firmly, taking on his full natural authority when his mate's more laid back social nature wasn't getting the point across. "We will not fight for credits again. Ever again. Have a good orn," he ended the conversation and turned to leave, scooping up Chipper so they could make full use of their long legs, then flight frames.

Somewhat to Axe's surprise and amusement, after a startled squeak the silver mech went compliantly still and relaxed in Dai Atlas' grip.

Axe followed his mate out of the office and out into the open air, taking flight. "Let's get back to the apartment. And you, Chipper, are staying where we can see you until we're ready to leave the city. We don't want you being used to lure us back in there."

"No problem," Chipper chirped back, clinging onto Dai Atlas, though he displayed no actual fear of flight. "What city is next up?"

~I have no clue, but I know the best _trade_ schools are in Tyger Pax, while the best educational institutes are in Iacon and Praxus,~ Dai Atlas suggested.

~Ratchet did suggest a hospital, to complete our repairs, first. Then, once we figure out what we would prefer to go for, trades or education, that's where we'll head.~ Axe shrugged. ~At this very moment I'm not thinking much farther than a good cube of energon and a long hot oil soak. And you, of course.~

"Either Tyger Pax or Praxus, most likely," Dai Atlas answered Chipper.

The baleful glare of the transorganic floor covering greeted them as they reached the apartment, entering and locking the balcony doors behind them. Axe ignored it, going straight for the energon stores in the kitchen. Chipper gave it a wary look as he was set down.

"It's long deactivated," Dai Atlas chuckled. "The spare berthroom is there," he pointed to one of the doors. "We're staying in the primary one," he pointed to another door. "Though tonight, I expect we'll both be at the bottom of the oil bath."

"Oil bath?" Chipper's entire attention fixated on that word, his expression one of extreme longing.

"Our friend, who owns this place and allows us to use it, is a mech even older than we are, with credits to burn. There is a very nice hot oil pool in the washracks." Axe brought three cubes into the main room with him. Two were jet-grade, the third grounder-grade. "Additives are in the cupboard, if there are any you prefer."

Chipper all but bounced to the cupboard and climbed the wall with a smooth ease of one long used to such things before dropping to the floor with a packet of sweetener in hand.

Dai Atlas gave a welcome sigh at his first sip of energon, mixed with just the right combination of sweet and bitter, before stealing a kiss from Axe and drawing his mate towards the washrack. ~We can drink while we soak. My joints are complaining.~

~That makes two of us.~ Axe downed a swallow of his own cube, willingly following the larger mech. He glanced at Chipper. "The pool is large enough to share. Just don't trip over us, please."

The pool was already warming when they entered the washracks, the scent of the oil an irresistible lure. Setting his cube down on the edge, Axe lowered himself into the hot liquid, letting out a groan at the welcome heat. He barely had time to process that pleasure when he was pulled against his mate and into a hungry kiss.

~I've missed sharing pleasure as well,~ Dai Atlas rumbled, running his hands down Axe's back. ~Missed becoming one spark.~

~I've missed it, too,~ Axe purred, reaching for long white wings, running his palms over the armor under them. Settling himself, he pressed himself against his mate's frame, returning the kiss with equal hunger.

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

Praxus gleamed on the horizon as the two giant fliers approached, the afternoon light catching on the towers and windows. To the two tired triple changers, it was a very welcome sight.

After a couple of orns hiding in Titanium's Kaon apartment recuperating from the death match in the arena, Dai Atlas and Axe had decided to head for Praxus. The city had some of the finest universities on Cybertron; there was a great deal the two ancient mechs could pick up there. It also had a fine hospital, which could finish repairing the arena damage Ratchet hadn't and their internal repair couldn't.

"There it is," Axe murmured, speaking aloud for the benefit of their passenger. "Now the fun part begins... Finding a place to stay. I'm not aware of Titan having an apartment in this city; are you, Dai?"

"Not that I know of," Dai Atlas admitted. "We have credits for a nice room however."

"I have a friend here who'd be happy to put us up," Chipper chirped, something mischievous in his voice. "He should be home now too. The clade compound is there," he pointed towards the wealthier section of Praxus overlooking the crystal gardens and pinged them the coordinates.

Axe hummed. "Very nice area. You're sure he wouldn't mind?" The black and gold jet banked in that direction, sweeping his sensors over the area.

"Prowl won't mind," Chipper grinned. "There are plenty of guest quarters. The clade is always having folks visit, official and friends."

Unlike most other cities they had visited, the Praxus traffic authority pinged them the moment they entered Praxian airspace, requesting that they download the most current traffic regulations and state their intended destinations. Dai Atlas handled it for both of them, though he shared full real time data with his mate.

Axe accepted the information, looking it over as he followed his mate and their passenger toward the indicated area. "Are the ceilings high enough, is what I would like to know. Dai and myself are not exactly made for small spaces."

"The Prime had just visited the last time I was here, so I think so," Chipper said, less than perfectly confident. "Most ceilings look really tall to me, you know."

~It's kind of nice being in a city that runs like the military was meant to,~ Dai Atlas actually relaxed a bit. ~Ordered, organized, to the point ... it deserves its reputation so far.~

~After the lawlessness of Kaon, I'm just glad to see a well-run city,~ Axe replied. "Considering your size, Chipper, I am not surprised. But we're quite a bit larger than you are, so we have a very different idea of ceiling heights."

"Worth checking, isn't it?" Chipper didn't sound as sure as he had been. "I mean, the worst he can say is that he doesn't have a place big enough for you."

Before the giants could respond, there was a comm ping with the ID of the city's Commander of the Enforcers rather than a designation attached to it.

::Yes, sir?:: Dai Atlas responded immediately.

::What business do you have with my clade?:: a no-nonsense voice demanded.

::A friend directed us here as a potential place to stay while we're in Praxus,:: Axe replied. ::He didn't say anything about Enforcers, though.::

::The Shining Sun is the primary Enforcer clade in Praxus,:: the Commander said stiffly. ::What friend?::

::Chipper,:: Dai Atlas responded with the silver minibot's formal designation, or what he hoped was close enough to it.

::Chipper?:: the Commander sounded confused for a moment, then made a small sound of understanding. ::I see. You may land in the compound. My Second Bonded will see to your needs.::

::Thank you,:: Axe replied. ::We will be landing shortly.:: The black Knight couldn't wait to get on the ground. He and Dai Atlas had been in the air since leaving Kaon, not wanting to stop until they were well away from the city. Both were getting tired, and would need to refuel soon.

"Clue me in?" Chipper asked, aware the conversation was happening.

"We've been given permission to land," Axe replied. "Your friend is an Enforcer?" He banked toward the compound, locking onto a landing site and beginning to descend toward it. "This will be an interesting experience."

"Yap," Chipper grinned. "He's got some rank too, not that he's much on using it. He meeting us?" he was bouncing in Axe's seat.

"I believe he said his Second Bonded would be meeting us," the ebony triple changer replied, then paused at the startled squawk Chipper let out and the flare of shock-anger-hurt that blazed in the normally happy mech's field.

"His _what_?" Chipper actually snarled before he caught himself.

"His Second Bonded," Axe repeated, part of his attention on landing, the rest on watching his passenger. Black wings shifted ever so slightly.

~That was an interesting reaction,~ Dai Atlas hummed across the bond.

Chipper sputtered and growled before he managed to collect himself and put on a good imitation of his normal self.

The two large mechs descended toward their chosen landing site, dropping below the compound walls. Axe touched down first, landing in alt mode and opening his cockpit to let Chipper out. Once the small mech was out, Axe transformed, drawing himself up to his full height and looking around as his mate landed on his pedes beside him. Once the dust from their landing settled an elegant deep blue Praxian mech with golden highlights and a silver chevron that had a ruby center approached them.

"Welcome to the House of the Shining Sun and Praxus," the mech inclined his helm to them. "I am Deep Sky, Second Bonded of this House."

"I am Axe," the black Knight replied. "This is my bonded mate, Dai Atlas." He inclined his helm in polite reply, then indicated the small silver mech that was doing an admirable job of seeming friendly when he was anything but. "It was he who guided us here. He said we might find a place to stay while we are in this city."

"My Lord Prowl has indicated you are welcome to stay as you wish," Deep Sky said formally. "May I show you to your quarters?"

"Yes, please," Axe answered, reaching over to brush his fingers against his mate's hand. One sensor remained on Chipper, watching the small mech as they all followed Deep Sky to one of the central buildings, then inside the building to realize that the entire thing was designed with larger-than-normal mecha in mind. A lift to the second of three floors opened to a great entry room that gave both triple changers flashbacks to their military quarters. It was high quality and luxurious, yet it was also athletically pleasing to their military sensibilities in efficient and economical design. It was very much the balance of 'good enough for rank' and 'little use for extravagance' that had ruled Dai Atlas' preferences for longer than Axe had been in existence.

"Are these sufficient?" Deep Sky asked politely.

Axe looked around, inspecting their quarters, and let out a soft hum of approval. Perfectly sized for very large mecha, even mechs of Dai Atlas' height, not too extravagant or too plain. The black mech relaxed, flaring his plating slightly. The ebony Knight nodded an acknowledgement to Deep Sky as thanks.

"Yes," Dai Atlas responded smoothly. "Thank you."

"Lord Prowl would like you to join us at our table for the evening refueling," Deep Sky said smoothly. "Until then, Evening Bronze will see to anything you need," he motioned to a femme with a deep bronze finish before he re-entered the lift to leave.

"How may I serve?" Evening Bronze requested.

Axe turned his attention to the bronze femme. "I personally am interested in a shower." He grimaced at the layer of dust on his armor.

"Of course," she inclined her helm. "The washracks are this way," she motioned the pair to follow. "Would you like assistance, or energon to replenish your tanks from such a long flight?"

"We prefer to clean ourselves," Dai Atlas said firmly but politely, familiar with the delicate line of getting what he wanted while not insulting his host. "Energon would be most welcome. It was a long flight."

Axe inclined his helm slightly, leaving the talking to his mate. He followed the femme toward the washracks, very much looking forward to being clean again. "A very long flight," he agreed, taking in the washracks that were at least as nice as what Titanium had. Multiple showerheads were arranged to soak anyone with any kind of frame. It was open too, allowing plenty of space for both giants and Dai Atlas' wide wings. In a separate space was a deep, large hot oil pool.

"I will return with the energon shortly," she told them before slipping away as Dai Atlas turned the solvent on.

"Thank you," Axe murmured after her, easing under the solvent spray with his mate. A soft groan escaped as the solvent ran over his armor. "That feels so good..."

"It does," Dai Atlas quivered from helm to pedes and wingtip to wingtip. They both simply stood still for a lingering moment, enjoying the warm, cleansing rain coming from all angles. Then Dai Atlas picked up a brush and turned to his mate. "Scrub your back?" he offered.

"Please." Axe turned around, presenting his back for scrubbing. He hummed contentedly for a klik, leaning into the brush, before speaking again. "What did you make of Chipper's reaction when I mentioned the Enforcer's Second Bonded?"

"I'm standing right here," Chipper called up to him. "I was ... surprised. I didn't know he'd bonded once, much less twice."

Blue optics turned in the smaller mech's direction. "That was quite an extreme reaction. Not just surprise."

Chipper looked away, his frame stilling for a moment before he shrugged with a huff. "I was under the impression we were ... close. That we'd bond when I was ready to settle down. Now he's bonded at least twice, and I never even got a note about it."

"That would explain the anger-hurt in your field." Axe regarded the smaller mech steadily for a moment.

"We don't have to stay here," Dai Atlas offered. "We have plenty of credits to work with."

Chipper shook his helm. "I'll be fine. We'll probably have a blow out fight tonight, make up interfacing and I'll get over my wishful thinking. He probably couldn't wait any longer, or they're political, or whatever. It doesn't really matter."

~There are going to be some fireworks in this place tonight, my love,~ Axe commented through the bond. ~I just hope it happens out of audial range.~

~Agreed. Though if not, we'll just have to make enough noise to cover it up,~ Dai Atlas teased, putting more effort into scrubbing his mate back to a glossy black.

Leaning into the brush, he turned his attention back to Chipper. "It obviously meant a lot to you, or you wouldn't have been that hurt by it."

"Our sparks resonate," Chipper shrugged. "I've spent a _lot_ of my existence thinking about what it would be like to finally settle, bond, have sparklings. You know, the usual stuff. I never thought that he might move on while I was away. Or maybe that he didn't have the same plans in the first place."

~Sounds like a plan,~ Axe agreed with a purr that was entirely through the bond. "Maybe he couldn't afford to wait. You won't know until you ask him."

"Which won't be until after dinner, most likely, if he has time," Chipper murmured, no longer entirely sure how welcomed he was. "Did your sparks resonate?" he tried to shift the conversation away from himself and his failed relationship.

Axe shook his helm. "No, our sparks didn't resonate. I got his attention through a different means. There was a _lot_ of high-grade involved." The black Knight grinned. "Neither of us were complaining about the results."

~Definitely not,~ Dai Atlas leaned in to tip Axe's face for a searing kiss. ~I still think resonance is a myth.~

"Maybe it's better that way," Chipper regarded the pair, together many times longer than he'd been functioning, as Axe melted into his mate's attentions. "You had to work for what you have. More honest that way."

~Maybe it is, maybe it isn't,~ Axe replied, purring into the kiss. He leaned back against his mate's frame. "We worked at it for nearly a millennia. Then he performed the most incredible courting dance I ever saw." A black hand slid up to tease a gold helm crest.

"He wasn't accepting anything less," Dai Atlas countered with a shiver at the touch and claimed another kiss before breaking it sharply. ~We _do_ need to get clean if we want to soak before dinner.~

A soft whine of protest escaped Axe, but he nodded in agreement, his thoughts hinting that there would be some fun later that evening. Picking up another brush, he reached around to work on Dai Atlas' back and the span of broad wings.

The larger giant moaned deeply at the attention and willingly held still for it. As always with his mate, the charge began to build with his arousal, though it was light and easily ignored for the gentle pleasure of the touch.

Axe made sure to keep the touches light, not wanting to get his mate too wound up. He paid careful attention to all the places debris tended to build up, feathering the brush bristles into the hard-to-reach nooks and crannies of Dai Atlas' armor and kibble. Beyond the pleasure of being _clean_ again, they needed to look good. The Lord of an important House was not to be dismissed.

It took a bit of poking and some awkward maneuvering with the brush to get at the hardest-to-reach areas. Once Axe was satisfied that he'd at least loosened up the debris enough for it to wash out, he nudged Dai Atlas under the spray, watching as the accumulated grime was washed out of where it had been building up. Nodding in satisfaction, he offered his mate the brush, turning to expose his own hard to reach armor plating.

With the same care and meticulous attention to detail, Dai Atlas returned the favor, smiling slightly as his mate groaned at the dual pleasure of stimulation and getting _clean_.

"Does the shower get you two off or something?" Chipper's voice piped up from the far side of the room where he'd been paddling around the oil bath for more than a breem.

"A combination of getting _clean_ and being with our other half," Axe replied, glancing over at the smaller mech. "When you've been bonded as long as we have, you know _exactly_ what touches work best to get your partner worked up." He shifted slightly to look over his mate's frame. "At least we touched up our paint before leaving Kaon... Once we get this grime off we should be presentable enough."

"I have a sneaking suspicion that we'll be touched up again if we need it," Dai Atlas chuckled as he checked Axe's finish, then tugged his mate towards the pool and the energon waiting for them. "It'll be good to relax again."

"Relaxing sounds like a very good idea," Axe agreed as he stepped into the pool, shooing Chipper out of the way. Groaning softly, he settled into the hot liquid, letting his optics dim.

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

Early the next morning Dai Atlas and Axe enjoyed the walk from the House of the Shining Sun to a bench in the famed Crystal Gardens where they had arranged to meet a mecha that promised he could help them decide on a course of study. Tandem had apologized profusely about the lack of height in the office; mecha Dai Atlas' size were just too rare to make building standards to accommodate.

~Hopefully the universities themselves will have higher ceilings.~ Axe leaned against his mate's shoulder, his optics darting about, taking in all he could see of the gardens. He had heard of the Crystal Gardens, everyone had, but never before had he had the chance to actually see them. In his first opinion it deserved everything said of it.

~If not, arrangements will be made. I'm hardly unaccustomed to it being inconvenient,~ he turned his helm to snatch a kiss. ~It's worth it to be able to pick you up and pin you against the wall.~

~Just because you're used to the inconvenience doesn't make it any less aggravating. Nor does it have any effect on the amount of grumbling through the bond when you end up with a crick in your neck or back,~ the black and gold Knight pointed out, returning the kiss.

"Welcome to Praxus," a welcoming voice drew their attention to the white, gray and silver Praxian with two sensor wing panels. "Thank you for agreeing to a different location. I am Tandem."

Axe inclined his helm in polite greeting. "I am Axe, and this is my mate, Dai Atlas." He watched the smaller mech with curious interest as Tandem sat on a bench at a right angle to theirs.

"I understand you are both former officers with long records and a great deal of applied education, but little formal education?" Tandem opened with a smooth smile, offering the edge of his EM field to the pair.

"We were sparked military, and never had any formal education outside the military," Axe replied. "If it had no bearing on leading armies across the galaxy, then we had no reason to learn it. Now that we are out of the military, there is a great deal we don't know." He extended his own field to brush against Tandem's.

"You might find a basic cultural study course worthwhile. It was designed for former military to adjust to the real world. It will include all the major differences as well as the education most mecha receive before their mechling upgrade."

"Sounds like an interesting place to start." Axe hummed softly. Blue optics flicked to his mate, who nodded.

"Is the course Praxus-centric?" Dai Atlas asked.

"To an extent," Tandem said easily. "Are you planning to move elsewhere after you graduate?"

"Yes, so a more general overview would be preferable," Dai Atlas said.

Tandem hummed, tapping rapidly on his transparent datapad. "Would I be correct that you do not intend to go to a city, or even a territory dominated by one?" He flicked a glance at their Great Swords. "I have heard of such weapons, and that they belong to a rather isolationist Order."

"You would be correct." Dai Atlas' expression gave away nothing. "We are not settling in a city or a city-dominated territory."

"Then the diplomatic variant might be of most interest and use for you," he suggested. "It touches on all the major cities and is as unbiased as any university has. As senior command officers, it likely is more in line with your experience."

Both of the large triple changers considered that. Blue optics met red briefly, then Axe nodded. "That does sound more useful to us."

Tandem nodded and rapidly tapped a few more things into his datapad. "As long-time military, I'm sure you have field training in at least a few fields. Are there any skills you are inclined to have as formal education?"

Axe thought for a moment, pondering the options and where his own interests were leading. "Administration," he said finally. "I have yet to narrow it down, though. Also systems tech."

"Sciences, engineering, and programming," Dai Atlas answered, shifting a long wing. "Cooking."

Tandem nodded and smiled warmly. "Any specific fields?"

"Pastries and confections," the larger mech replied.

Axe's optics flicked to his mate, surprised. That wasn't something he'd ever thought about his mate doing, but he understood the blue triple changer's need for a hobby. ~Wing is going to be over the moons when he learns about that skill.~

~Of that I am well aware, love,~ Dai Atlas chuckled.

"Hobby level pasty chef or enough for a solid income?" Tandem asked, tapping rapidly on his pad with no indication that he was the least bit startled by the statement.

"Hobby," Dai Atlas said easily. "Enough to make treats for friends. Axe needs a hobby too ... is there a course that gives you an experience with many options?"

"Of course, if Axe doesn't have any preferences?" he glanced at the black and gold mech.

"I'm leaning more toward art, drawing," Axe replied after a moment of thought. "Though there might be other options I would find appealing."

More tapping. Datastreams flashing by on the pad. "Drawing, and there is an entry level creativity course that covers drawing, painting, engraving, sculpture and holograms. There is also a pastry decoration course, if you want to join your mate in the kitchen."

"I'll give it some thought," Axe replied, nodding slightly. Light glittered along his gold crest. "Those courses sound quite interesting." ~Though getting us in the kitchen together might end up with as much of the decorations on us as on the pastries,~ he commented privately, chuckling.

~And that is a problem for what reason?~ Dai Atlas purred back with a few thought-images. ~Just think of being able to make our own gel.~

~You have a point.~ Black armor fluffed out slightly in response. ~Definitely a course to keep in mind, then.~

~What about dancing?~ Dai Atlas purred across the bond, giving no doubt just what kind of dancing he meant.

Axe's helm spikes twitched. ~Not something I ever really envisioned myself doing, but definitely a possibility.~

~Would you enjoy watching me dance?~ Dai Atlas asked, almost hesitant.

~Of course I would,~ Axe answered, reaching out to take his mate's hand, curling his fingers around Dai Atlas'. ~And I would enjoy dancing for you.~

A small smile crossed the larger giant's lip plates as he leaned over to snatch a lingering kiss and draw his mate closer. Axe sidled closer, leaning against warm blue armor, returning the kiss. He'd almost forgotten the smaller mech sitting with them. Humming contentedly, Axe settled against his larger mate's side.

"Will you try to test out of any courses you may have the experience to pass already?" Tandem asked when he had their attention again.

"That hadn't occurred to me," Axe admitted. He glanced up into red optics.

Dai Atlas shook his large helm. "Perhaps the most technical of courses, but given how our education happened, even if we know enough to test out, we likely don't know important things taught in it that will hamper our progress in later courses. Though that idea might change when we actually know what courses we have to take."

Tandem smiled warmly. "Then all that is left is the entrance exams to place your current knowledge levels and set up your schedule."


	13. Happy Wings

**Fandom**: Transformers G1  
**Author**: gatekat, ultrarodimus on LJ  
**Pairing**: Axe/Dai Atlas, Wing/Atl/Thorn  
**Rating**: NC-17  
**Codes**: Slash, Historical Setting, Knights of Light, Sticky, Spark  
**Summary**:  
**Disclaimer**: The authors are only playing with their own twisted muses. Transformers belong to Hasbro. Fandom-side, check the inspirations page (gatekat-fics .livejournal 290 .html). We draw from a ton of amazing stories and authors you should read.

Kneeling to the Sword 13: Happy Wings  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ =================== ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wing kept twitching his wings as he made his way to the control center for his shift on watch. They were usually a duty that Knights avoided as often as they could, but as long as his creators had been on their walkabout Wing traded for them as often as he could. It meant he had fourteen whole joors to catch up on what his creators were doing on their walkabout, and hopefully know when they'd be returning before they arrived.

Most Knights stayed out on walkabout for two or three centuries, at most. Dai Atlas and Axe had been gone nearly six centuries, far longer than the general norm. It made the young jet twitchy. He missed the older mechs.

Entering the control room, Wing nodded to the other mecha on duty, taking his place at the console. After logging in and doing his required checks, he logged into the system that tracked Knights on walkabout. He'd really expected them to return after they finished the formal education, but they'd continued on to Crystal City for nearly a score of vorns, then Hive City. The pair seemed determined to visit _every single city on the entire planet_.

Now they were in the air once more, on a path from Gygax to what _might_ be the Citadel.

White wings quivered, rattling very faintly against his back armor. He hoped they were returning home. Wing wanted badly to see them again, wanted to hear about what they had done and seen and what they had learned while they had been gone. He wanted to hear the deep rumble of their voices and press himself against their armor. His friends and lovers ensured he almost never recharged alone, but it wasn't the same. They'd left before he was ready to give up the comfort of their presence.

The small white jet shifted in his seat, keeping one optic on the monitor tracking his creators. If they were returning to the Citadel, he wanted to know. He would be the first out to greet them, the rest of his shift be fragged. Yet even as he thought it, he knew it wouldn't matter. They were at least two orns away, and that's if they flew _hard_ with breaks only to gulp energon.

"They're returning?" Atl's voice managed to drag Wing away from the monitors after seventeen joors. Who'd called the red and white Knight was debatable, but as one of his Initiates was returning as well, they would have something to talk about that would drag Wing to his berth, or at least a berth.

Wing finally pried himself away from the console. "It looks like they're finally on their way back," he agreed. Slender wings fluttered. "Finally! They've been gone so long."

"Far longer than most," Atl agreed smoothly as he drew Wing towards the door. "It will be _good_ to have them back, even if most of the Citadel will miss your warmth."

"But not my restless squirming," Wing retorted, flicking a wing at his friend. He followed the red mech out, knowing he'd be pulled out if he tried to resist. It had happened several times already. On the up side, Atl was _very_ good at getting him to relax enough to recharge well no matter how keyed up he was. Between the hot oil bath and even hotter interfacing he was always well taken care of.

"Perhaps not, though I don't hear many complaints," Atl teased. "It seems your advantages as a berthmate outweigh the disadvantages."

Wing puffed up at that, chuckling. "Nice to know my skills in the berth are highly regarded enough for my partners to ignore my restless squirming and occasional soft whine while trying to recharge." Resettling his armor, he followed Atl back to the red mech's quarters, once again empty without an Initiate.

"Have you kept up on the betting pools over whether Dagger and Kimark would get back before Dai Atlas and Axe?"

Wing shook his helm. "Not really. How are those two doing, anyway? I haven't checked about Dagger in a couple of orns now."

Atl smiled as they made their way to his washrack and the deep hot oil bath. He turned serious as he sank into the simmering oil. "Kimark ... still has his temper. He's in Kaon. I hope he intended to make peace with his past, but he's been in two death matches already."

Wing grimaced. "He's going to need a long time to really settle down. If he ever does. He and the Great Sword that chose him are well suited to each other." A soft groan escaped as the jet sank to his chin in the hot oil, flaring wings and armor.

"Yes, he will," Atl agreed with a sigh that was half resignation and half physical pleasure. "He still has much anger to work through. My hope is that some orn he returns to us, at peace with himself."

"And Dagger?" Wing made a note to check on his second Initiate during his next shift.

"Up to his optics in energon too, but at a volunteer medical center in Kalis," Atl smiled and reached for his friend, and for tonight, his lover. "I expect he'll request to become Hardwing's intern when he returns."

"It wouldn't surprise me. He spent most of his free time helping in the medbay after Dai and Axe were shot down, and he was in there a lot afterward, as well. Dagger was always one of the first to volunteer when the medics needed assistance with something." Wing nodded slowly. He moved closer to Atl, leaning against red armor and purring as a strong arm slid around him, holding him tightly.

"Do you think they've adopted another creation on their walkabout?" Atl teased with an affectionate nuzzle, well aware of what Wing needed.

"I don't think so, but we won't know until they get back." Wing returned the nuzzle, lifting a hand to stroke over Atl's chest. White wings quivered, wanting to be touched.

With a low chuckle Atl complied. "Do you have any hopes for your Initiate's walkabout?"

"Considering how long he's been out, I think he will have learned a lot," Wing murmured, leaning into Atl's hands. "Probably much more than I did when I was out on walkabout." He nuzzled against Atl's shoulder and neck, moaning as skilled, knowing fingers worked Wing's wings until the white jet was a quivering mass of strutless need.

Wing all but melted against Atl, his fingers darting across red armor, dipping into seams and stroking over sensitive plating. Tilting his helm, he nipped at Atl's jaw, shifting onto the red grounder's lap. He wasn't even aware of the silent shadow that entered the room until a second set of hands slid down his frame and a warm, familiar frame and field pressed against his back.

White wings flapped in surprise, then Wing chirred a welcome, leaning back into Thorn. One hand disentangled itself from Atl's armor, reaching back to glide over sleek black armor. Turning his helm, Wing nipped at Thorn's lower lip, trilling softly.

"Atl thought the hot oil and a little wing play might not be enough to settle you tonight," the black Knight smiled and claimed Wing's mouth in a fierce kiss.

"So one of us is going to take your valve, while the other works your wings," Atl finished.

"He was right," Wing replied, returning the kiss. "Now that my Initiate and creator is finally returning, I'm even more wound up than usual. I'll need a lot of distracting." A shiver of anticipation ran through him as Atl's words registered.

Atl caught Wing's chin to turn him for a heated kiss.

"So who do you want to do what?" Thorn rumbled hotly against Wing's neck, his fingers rubbing against Wing's valve cover.

Wing purred into the kiss, reaching up to trace the edge of Atl's audial flares with his fingers. His field pulsed against theirs, bright with arousal and desire.

"Atl in my valve first," the white jet replied after the fiery kiss ended. "Then you can have your turn, Thorn." Golden optics flared brightly as Wing looked over his shoulder at the black jet.

"Happily," Thorn smiled and snatched a kiss, his fingers still rubbing against Wing's valve cover as Atl's thick, long spike slid from its housing to rub against Wing's spike cover and lower abdominals.

Wing trilled, returning the kiss, nibbling briefly at the taller jet's lower lip. His valve cover slid back, a shiver running through the white jet's frame as the hot oil slid over the sensitive platelets. Slender wings stretched out to their full span, leaning back toward Thorn as Wing's hips shifted toward Atl.

"So hot," Thorn moaned as he eagerly soaked in Wing's field. His hands were busy stroking along slender white wings.

"And tight," Atl moaned, his hands on Wing's hips to help guild the noticeably smaller mech onto his spike.

The little white jet echoed the moan, arching his back slightly as Atl's spike slid into his valve, a shiver running through his frame. His wings pressed into Thorn's hands, exposing the sensitive joints and control surfaces to hands that were intimately familiar with all the best ways to touch.

Atl nipped Wing's throat and drove his hips up as he pulled Wing's down, setting a steady rhythm that was all about building a high charge fast.

Wing's hips matched the pace Atl set, the white jet leaning his helm back and exposing his throat to the red grounder's nips and kisses. Gold optics flared, a moan of utter bliss escaping as Wing gave himself over to his lovers.

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Just over two orns later, Wing was flitting restlessly around the Citadel's towers. Knowing it was utterly pointless to try and get him to concentrate on his duties or chores, Vanguard had given him the orn off with the warning that he'd have to make up the time in the next decaorn.

It took a couple of joors for movement to be spotted on the horizon, two large airframes heading toward the Citadel. Knights began to gather to welcome the pair home, keeping an optic on the white flicker darting around the upper levels as a sign as to how close the pair were.

When the white flicker began to vibrate more than fly, darting out to the edge of the Citadel's wall and then back inside the other fliers began to lift off to greet their fellow Knights as they crossed into the Citadel's domain.

There was a surprised sound from one of the two as the flying Knights swirled around them, calling greetings. Wing was a streak of white as he descended, darting and dancing around them, but refraining from glomping until the two big triple changers were transformed and on the ground.

~We're finally home,~ Axe murmured as he descended, returning the greetings from the other Knights. It had been a long flight back, even with breaks to rest and refuel, and he was tired.

~Yes, we are,~ Dai Atlas agreed as he set down on his pedes next to his mate to face the greetings by the ground-bound Knights.

A white streak descended from on high, his happy trill audible even over the sound of his engines. Wing never even touched the ground; he transformed in mid-air and slowed just enough to latch onto Axe, though the impact was still enough to make the black triple changer take a step back to keep his balance. Axe found himself with an armful of purring jet, slender wings wiggling happily.

"Hello to you, too, Wing," Axe chuckled, hugging the smaller mech close.

Dai Atlas laughed deeply at the sight, one hand out to help steady his mate. "I'd ask if you missed us, but I think it may be redundant."

Around them other Knights laughed. "You have no idea!" someone called out in good humor. "He hasn't spent a night in his own berth yet!" someone else laughed. "And that is different how?" A third mech snickered.

"You have no idea how much I missed you!" Wing clung to Axe for a long moment, then skittered up onto his shoulder, using Axe's shoulder as a launch pad to pounce on Dai Atlas. It was the blue mech's turn to be rocked back onto his heels as the small jet landed on him, throwing his arms around Dai Atlas' neck and pressing himself against blue armor.

"I think we have a good idea," Axe pointed out with a laugh, turning to face his mate. He watched for a moment, then stepped closer, wrapping his arms around his mate and catching Wing in a dual embrace. Wing purred so loud his entire frame vibrated.

~He's beyond adorable,~ Dai Atlas grinned. "You'll have to tell us everything we missed."

"And you'll have to tell me some of the things you've seen while you were out and about," Wing replied with an affirmative chirp. Slender wings were still wiggling happily, brushing against Axe's chestplate.

~Beyond adorable indeed,~ Axe agreed, giving Wing an affectionate nuzzle before reluctantly letting go. Wing curled into Dai Atlas' chest, clearly having no intention of letting go anytime soon.

A stir from the crowd caught the pair's attention as Vanguard made an appearance, making his way through the gathered mecha to stand in front of them. White optics took in both Dai Atlas and Axe for a moment before the Sovereign nodded to both of them. "Welcome home, Knights."

Axe and Dai Atlas inclined their helms politely in response.

"It is good to be _home_, Sovereign," Dai Atlas said over Wing's trilling purrs. "Our walkabout has been most educational, though it has made us both grateful to return."

"It is good to have you home," Vanguard told them. A small smile appeared on his face. "Now Wing will stop gluing himself to the sensor monitors for fourteen joors or more at a stretch and resume his normal behavior."

Wing chittered softly, shifting slightly against Dai Atlas.

"That must have been most disturbing to watch," Axe chuckled.

"It was," Atl grinned up at his former Initiate. "It usually took someone dragging him to their berth to frag him senseless to get him to move."

"It was most un-Wing-like," Vanguard agreed. "Normally he has trouble sitting still through a single shift on monitor duty and is out as soon as his shift is over."

"I wasn't that bad," Wing protested.

"Oh yes you were," another Knight called back from somewhere in the crowd.

"That bad and worse," Thorn countered as he reached the front of the gathering. "Or do we have to share what it took to get you to recharge the last two nights?"

Wing made a face at the other jet but didn't comment. Axe laughed at him, reaching over to rub along Wing's red crest, and pout melted into contented chirr.

"All right, now that you've said hello, time for your checkup," Hardwing's firm voice rumbled as he made his way through the crowd. "Primus only knows what you encountered out there."

"Almost everything," Dai Atlas deadpanned, but nodded and moved to follow the chief medic. "So how is Dagger doing?" He asked the purring ball of white attached to his upper chest.

"It's more a question of what _didn't_ we encounter," Axe added, falling into step beside his mate as the other Knights parted to let them pass.

"Dagger was Knighted, and bonded to Fire of the Spark," Wing answered. "He's on walkabout now, at a volunteer medical center in Kalis. There's a betting pool as to whether he's going to intern with Hardwing and Redline when he gets back."

"You know you aren't supposed to talk about bets with those they are about," Hardwing reminded Wing that he was there, causing more than a few Knights to snicker. "Any damages or issues I should look at?"

Wing trilled innocently at the medic, shifting slightly in Dai Atlas' arms. Resting his helm against a blue shoulder, the white jet hummed contentedly. "As if you didn't already know about it."

"Nothing recent," Axe replied. "We did end up in a Kaon arena once, but that was sixty or so vorns after we left, and we were repaired afterward. The rest was taken care of at a hospital in Praxus."

"I heard about that match," Hardwing grumbled as they entered the medical wing.

"I am really not surprised the news reached the Citadel. I think most of Cybertron was watching that match." Dai Atlas shifted a long wing slightly.

"Any chance you know how your opponents were brought back to functioning?" Redline asked.

"I wasn't aware they were alive again." Axe frowned. "After that match we left the arena, and we haven't been following the matches. So we're really not sure."

"I hardly blame for you that," Hardwing huffed. "It's just my own medical curiosity how they managed it. On the berths. And Wing," he made sure he had the jet's attention. "Off."

Wing pouted, giving Hardwing his best "little lost turbopuppy" optics, but, as usual, the older medic was unaffected. Very reluctantly, Wing detached from Dai Atlas' plating, but he didn't go far.

"Sorry, jetling." Axe leaned over to run his fingers over a white audial flare. "You can latch onto us again when he's done."

"Behave or I'll drop you into stasis," Hardwing growled as he plugged Dai Atlas into the medical berth to run a deep viral scan, then moved on to Axe. "I can always run your maintenance check."

The response to that was a protesting whine, but Wing kept out of the way. He still didn't go very far away, though.

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It took several joors for Hardwing to be satisfied that the two returned Knights were in good health and had no major injuries that needed repair. They just needed energon and rest after their long flight back to the Citadel.

"Go back to your quarters and rest, and take that flutter-glitch with you," Hardwing grumped.

Axe chuckled, getting to his pedes and reaching down to scoop Wing up. "I doubt he'll be letting go of either of us for an orn at the very least." He rubbed Wing's back gently. "We missed him as much as he missed us."

"I doubt you missed him _that_ much," Hardwing huffed. "Scat, the lot of you."

Dai Atlas nodded and led the small group out. ~I have to agree with the doc,~ he chuckled.

~Oh really?~ Axe raised an optic ridge at his mate. "Wing, did you want to see the captures I got of our dear Dai kidnapping mecha for cuddles?"

Wing perked up, optics brightening as a bright grin appeared on his face. "Yes, please!" Wings fluttering eagerly, he turned that grin on Dai Atlas. "Hard time adjusting to a lack of jet cuddles, hm?"

"More like I want a sparkling," the largest mech grumbled under his ventilations. ~I will get you for that.~

~You are most welcome to try,~ Axe cooed back, winking at the larger mech.

Wing chirred, blinking a Dai Atlas. "There's no reason you can't have one. The Citadel is a peaceful environment, and there are several hundred mecha who would be willing to help raise a sparkling."

"We both have inhibiters and to request one sparked would invite far too much scrutiny," Dai Atlas shook his helm. "I'm just an old mecha used to having a charge."

The small jet cooed softly, settling back against Axe's armor. Gold optics lifted to meet blue. "You mentioned image captures?"

Axe chuckled, obligingly sending the white jet a databurst with some of the more choice images. A moment later, Wing went almost completely limp, laughing so hard his vocalizer squeaked.

"It's not _that_ funny," Dai Atlas groused as they entered the tower they lived in.

"It's hilarious," Wing giggled. "Oh Primus, their _expressions_..."

"There were some priceless expressions and some interesting flailing." Axe's grin widened.

"They're sparkling-sized to me," Dai Atlas muttered. "I told you I want one."

Wing purred, reaching over to pat Dai Atlas' arm. "I think it's cute." Wiggling out of Axe's hold, he hopped over onto Dai Atlas' shoulders, sliding down into the blue mech's arms. He was rewarded by a quick flicker of contentment to edge out the longing.

"Now what have _you_ been up to?" Dai Atlas demanded, his grip on Wing tight enough to keep anyone from taking him. ~I wonder if Hardwing can delete the protocols...~

"Driving various people up the wall," Wing replied. "I completed Dagger's training and saw him Knighted, and I saw Shogun and Stormcloud's sparkling after he separated."

~I can't think of any reason why he wouldn't be able to,~ Axe replied. His helm spikes twitched. "Wait... Shogun has a sparkling?"

"When? What is he? _Where_ is he?" Dai Atlas' entire frame twitched and quivered. ~I hope so, _before_ I do something unredeemable.~

"About two and a half centuries ago now. Little mech named Firefly. He turned out to be a Praxian Aerial, though with a clear Altihexian influence," Wing answered. "He's around here somewhere... They live in this tower, too. If he's not running around the corridors, you'll see him in the rec room. Most of the Citadel helped raise him."

~Next time we see Hardwing, we will ask,~ Axe replied as they entered their long-sealed quarters. "I bet he'll be quite the spark-breaker when he's a mechling." He paused, startled as he looked around. "Someone cleaned."

"Atl and I did," Wing smiled. "It's tradition for a Knight's Daoshi to make sure their quarters don't look abandoned when they return."

"Thank you," Dai Atlas shifted one hand to stroke Wing's backstrut as he sent a command to the oil bath to heat up. "It is very welcome. They really let so many mecha care for their sparkling?"

Wing was caught between puffing up at the praise and melting into the touch. Somehow, he managed to do both at once. "The Citadel is a relatively small, fairly closed community. Besides, Shogun _was_ a cop; I have absolutely no doubt he was running background and criminal record checks on _everyone_ before he let them anywhere near Firefly. Shogun's 'evil optic' look is nearly as effective as yours is." Wing grinned. "Everyone helps with sparklings so the creators aren't overwhelmed by their sparkling combined with their duties."

~I don't think I could do that,~ Dai Atlas hummed and walked to the washrack. "Shower first, or right to the oil?" he glanced at his mate.

~I have to admit, it is an intriguing way to raise sparklings.~ Axe looked down at himself, inspecting his frame critically for a moment. "Shower first, to get the travel grime off. Then into the oil."

Dai Atlas nodded agreeably and angled towards that side. "You're going to have to let go for a bit," he murmured to Wing, only reluctantly loosening his grip enough to allow it.

Wing pouted, unfolding himself from Dai Atlas' grasp and hopping to the floor. One white wingtip brushed against blue metal as the small jet got out of the way, but didn't leave the washracks.

Axe turned on the solvent, removing Sentry of Balance from his back and placing the Great Sword aside for the moment. A contented hum escaped as the cleaner ran over black armor, carrying away the grime that built up on his plating. The hum turned to a purr as his mate went to work with brush, liquid soap and far too much knowledge to clean every bit of Axe's back, aft, shoulders and the back of his helm.

~Or maybe Hardwing could remove my inhibitor,~ Dai Atlas mused, longing getting the better of reason. ~I didn't have one for quite a while.~

~Also an option,~ Axe replied. ~I wonder if there's any chance he could do something about mine...~ He purred as the brush in his mate's hand ran along a particularly sensitive armor seam.

Wing was already in the hot oil pool, bobbing on the surface, wings spread and armor fluffed. Bright gold optics watched the two larger mechs as they cleaned up, each touch enticing the other until Axe was moaning softly, his armor fluffed out and frame practically begging his mate for more.

~Tease,~ Axe accused, looking over his shoulder at his mate. He leaned into the brush, his purr increasing in volume. ~Going to get you back for this when I get my hands on that brush.~

~I look forward to it,~ Dai Atlas purred throatily, his touching and scrubbing becoming more sensual the cleaner Axe became.

Purrs became soft moans, the black mech leaning back against his mate's frame. Blue optics lifted to meet red. Turning around, he took the brush from Dai Atlas' hand, flicking the larger mech a sly grin. ~My turn.~

~As you wish,~ Dai Atlas shivered faintly and spread his arms, wings and armor in an open offer of all he had to his mate.

Axe's grin widened. He went to work, making sure to get all the hard-to-reach and sensitive places. Light strokes of the bristles teased the sensors, flicking along the edges of the plates. The black mech kept the touch especially light as he worked the brush along the span of Dai Atlas' wings, teasing the sensors along the leading edges. The black and gold mech's purr made it clear just how much he was enjoying this.

The first low moan from Dai Atlas was a triumph for Axe, then wings began to twitch and their bond began to swell with arousal.

Grinning hugely, Axe worked the brush over a wing joint, the very tips of the bristles teasing the delicate mechanisms that extended Dai Atlas' wings. The fingers of his other hand sneaked under a blue armor plate to skim feather-light over the circuits underneath. Working his way back along a wide wing, Axe teased the vanes at the tip, stroking the bristles along the edge of one vane.

Large white hands clenched and relaxed repeatedly as wide blue and white wings tried to press into the touch harder. ~You're trying to get pinned against the wall hard, aren't you?~

Pure mischief echoed down the bond. Optics sparkling, Axe leaned forward to lick at Dai Atlas' wingtip vanes, glossa flicking at the tip. ~And if I am?~ he purred in response.

~You're going to get it soon,~ he rumbled, his wing quivering.

~Is that a promise?~ Axe's voice was sultry as he repeated the motion, running the brush very lightly along the leading edge of his mate's wing, setting off all the sensors with one long, smooth stroke. His glossa ran slowly along the length of the lower wingtip vane, flirting with the tip.

~Yes!~ Dai Atlas's powerful engines roared in arousal even as he forced himself to hold relatively still. ~Going to _take_ you _completely_.~

~I'm looking forward to it,~ the black and gold mech crooned, slowly licking the vane again. The brush worked in spirals over the sensors in the flat planes of Dai Atlas' wings, feathering over the joint before Axe slid the bristles across his mate's back and along the length of the other wing.

Blue, black and white armor flared out, trying to cool Dai Atlas' internals. Then wings flared up sharply to clear Axe's helm when Dai Atlas twisted around and slammed him against the wall with a fierce kiss. Axe returned the kiss equally fiercely, dropping the brush. Dark hands glided over and under blue and white armor, one hand lifting to stroke the back of Dai Atlas' helm. Light fingertips brushed the back of his larger mate's neck. Bracing himself against the wall, Axe trailed one footplate along a blue shin.

Without hesitation Dai Atlas' spike cover slid back to release the long, thick length to extend and harden. ~Open,~ he growled, his hands eager and seeking along his mate's body.

Axe's valve cover almost popped open, lubricants seeping out through the platelets. Black armor flared, offering access to what lay underneath as Axe curled one leg around his mate's hip, pulling the taller mech closer. ~Take me.~

With a shudder Dai Atlas drove his hips forward and up, hilting himself full with a deep, rumbling groan at the pleasure from his spike spiraled through his frame.

Axe moaned, long and low, as that spike entered him. The back of his helm clunked against the wall as the pleasure darted through his sensor net. No matter how many times they interfaced, it always felt _so_ good to be stretched as filled so completely.

Strong hands closed around Axe's hips as Dai Atlas drew his hips back, then slammed them forward with a deep growl. Axe let out another moan, rolling his hips into Dai Atlas' thrusts as much as his mate's grip would allow him. His fingers slid into an armor seam, the other hand stroking and kneading the back of the larger mech's neck. Pleasure reverberated through their bond as the thrusting rhythm picked up.

Axe's fingers slid into an armor seam, the other hand stroking and kneading the back of the larger mech's neck. Pleasure reverberated through their bond as they kissed, both lost in the lubricated friction of their interface.

~Spark,~ Dai Atlas moaned, his chest plates unlocking. ~Want your spark.~

Black chestplates promptly unlocked and parted. The blue glow of his spark gleamed off his gold trim and his mate's blue plating. His spark was all but flattened to the side of its casing, wanting to get out. As soon as the casing began to open, it was out and reaching for its other half, a deep red spark that was just as desperate to connect.

~Love,~ Dai Atlas trembled uncontrollably in the mixture of pleasure and completeness that was never enough, but would have to suffice. The peace, the momentary lifting of the burden his gift inflicted on him, suffused through his processors and drew an intense cry of bliss from him.

Axe wrapped his arms around his mate's frame, pressing his chest against Dai Atlas'. His optics flared as the spark merge took precedence over the physical pleasure. ~Beloved,~ he murmured in response, willingly surrendering fully to the bliss and his mate's unique need.

~Love you. Want you. Need you.~ Dai Atlas trembled, right on the edge of a hard overload.

~Love you, more than words could ever express,~ Axe replied. ~I'm yours. Now and Always.~ Purest love accompanied the words, flowing through their bond to be absorbed greedily by the deeply scared and burdened spark until the inevitable overload swept them away into the bliss that only a pleasurable oblivion could bring.

Axe's high sound of pleasure went unnoticed by either of the pair. Neither was paying any attention to the external. Axe's valve clenched around his mate's spike, the black mech's frame going stiff in Dai Atlas' arms as the charge cascaded through his systems.

From the hot oil pool, golden optics watched with bright interest over the pool rim. Wing had been keeping quiet, though he was aware that the pair had completely forgotten he was even in the room with them. As arousing as the physical interfacing was, watching their frame language as their chest armor parted and the merge began was even more enticing in a far different way. Wing knew, watching this, that he desperately wanted to find a mecha that his spark resonated so completely with. Even from his angle he could see how Axe's life force had melded itself against its casing until released.

Slowly, gently, in direct contrast to the overload, the pair came down from their high and gradually relaxed. Dai Atlas nuzzled him mate affectionately in the pleasant lethargy. ~Hot oil, or try to finish cleaning up?~

~I think we got the worst of the grime off,~ Axe replied, returning the nuzzle with a warm purr. ~Oil bath.~ Blue optics slid to the pool, only then remembering they had an audience as he spotted the peeking optics.

~I hope we didn't torment him too much,~ Dai Atlas chuckled as he pulled out with a groan.

Axe lowered his leg, taking a moment to make sure of his balance before making his way over to the pool. Groaning softly, he lowered himself into the hot liquid.

Wing moved over to give the two larger mechs space, his fluttering wings stirring the surface of the oil. The little jet waited until both of them were settled before paddling over and latching onto them again. Strong arms wrapped around him as Dai Atlas returned the desire for contact.

His spark now settled by the merge, Dai Atlas relaxed physically and turned his focus on understanding his resent fixation on sparklings. As old as he was, as many charges as he'd trained, never before had there been a _sparkling_ in his life, not the kind he was obsessing over. Every military mecha was sparked in a fully upgraded frame, fully programmed with all the skills they'd need to survive and ready to step onto the battlefield. They never had a small, cute phase.

~Centuries of exposure to Wing, who acts more like a sparkling than any of our past charges did?~ Axe suggested. ~He tends to get under our armor without too much effort.~ The black and gold mech leaned over to affectionately rub Wing's crest, smiling at the resulting purr.

~Yes, he does,~ Dai Atlas murmured, stroking along Wing's backstrut. ~It's still strange, as old as I am, that I'd even be _attracted_ to sparkling-like qualities.~

~That I can't explain.~ Axe lifted one shoulder in a slight shrug, leaning against Dai Atlas' side and smiling at the limp, purring white jet in his mate's lap.


	14. Unchecked Desires

**Fandom**: Transformers G1  
**Author**: gatekat, ultrarodimus on LJ  
**Pairing**: Axe/Dai Atlas/Wing, Wing/Shogun/Stormcloud, Dai Atlas/Titanium  
**Rating**: NC-17  
**Codes**: Slash, Historical Setting, Knights of Light, Spark, Sticky, Mechpreg  
**Summary**:  
**Disclaimer**: The authors are only playing with their own twisted muses. Transformers belong to Hasbro. Fandom-side, check the inspirations page (gatekat-fics .livejournal 290 .html). We draw from a ton of amazing stories and authors you should read.

Kneeling to the Sword 14: Unchecked Desires  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ =================== ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dai Atlas stretched after his sparring match with Vanguard, energized and feeling more settled than he had in vorns. He'd been defeated, soundly, but he also knew the Sovereign was pleased with his showing. It felt good, to go down and know there was no shame in it, even with his mate and creation watching. It felt good to know there would be no question that his surrender would be accepted, and that his opponent was going to offer him a hand up with a smile of approval.

It was strange, knowing that finding out if he knew when and how to surrender was the point of some matches, and such approval could come from doing so.

Strange, but good.

He was _home_. Something he had never had before the Citadel. He liked being _home_.

Axe smiled at his mate as he walked over. "That seems to have settled your processors quite a bit." ~And you're not the only one who likes being _home_.~

Wing bounced in place. "You lasted longer than I ever do against Vanguard. That was impressive." He grinned up at the much larger blue mech.

"I may be relatively new to the swords, but I am far from new to sparring." Dai Atlas reached down to stroke Wing's crest with a smile for the purring creature that his spark had fully claimed as his own as much as his spark claimed Axe, if in very different ways. "Are you free to join us in the rec room?"

Wing nodded, leaning into the touch. "I just finished with my chores for the orn, and my shift is over. Let's go get some energon." A white wing flicked out to brush against Axe's armor, earning an affectionate tweak to the wingtip from the black triple changer before they walked at an easy pace for the giants. Two of their paces along and Wing was up on Dai Atlas' shoulder to save himself from running.

"You are such a shoulder-mech," Axe laughed playfully at the sight even as Wing grabbed one of his perch's horns.

"Small mech with short legs," the white jet chirped in response. "Otherwise I have to run or fly to keep up." He grinned brightly at the black mech.

"You're such a flutter-mech, I would have though it'd be easy for you to fly," Axe chuckled even as he reached out to rub Wing's crest. "Though you are easier to pet this way."

"Impossibly shameless," Atl's friendly laugh caught up with them shortly before the grounder did.

Wing leaned into the petting, almost falling off Dai Atlas' shoulder. Only a quick grab to latch onto his shoulder and helm crest saved Wing, getting a chuckle from Dai Atlas.

"I think that's the point," Dai Atlas pointed out with a rumble of amusement. "He's a cybercat in mech form. Loves petting."

Hearing Atl, Wing stuck his glossa playfully out at the red grounder, but didn't lean away from Axe's hand.

"You're never going to grow up, I'm sure of it," Atl grinned at his friend, his tone suggesting that he didn't find it a bad thing in the least.

"Probably not," Wing chirped in easy agreement.

When they reached the rec room, there was a small crowd loosely gathered off to one side. Conversation flowed back and forth. At the table for the larger frametypes, the distinctive silver crest of the former Altihex policemech Shogun was easy to spot. After getting energon for all four of them, Dai Atlas headed for that table with an easy greeting for the mechs that had done so much to help him get through the roughest spots in Axe's training.

"You've got a lump on your shoulder," Shogun deadpanned, grinning at the huff he got from Wing in response. "Careful where you pet... Stroke behind his audial fin and he will ooze right off."

The gray Praxian in the next seat swatted his mate, getting a mock-yelp from the red mech. "You behave." Stormcloud smiled at the older pair. "Good to see you back."

"It is _good_ to be back," Dai Atlas chuckled and sat down so Wing was easy to access by anyone who cared to pet him. "I heard much happened in your lives."

"It's certainly been interesting," the former cop agreed. He tilted his helm toward the seat on his mate's other side. "There's the biggest change right there."

Axe perked up a bit at that, his blue gaze turning on the indicated seat.

He met the curious green optics of a red and gray youngling, a Praxian Aerial frame. The youngling's armor showed the clear influence of his sire's Altihexian frame. Gold trimmed red plating and wings, and his upper chest was gold. The little mech, who could only be Firefly, had a silver chevron with gold along the upper edge, and his wings had silver tips.

Dai Atlas managed to contain his reaction to a sharp intake of air and quiver of long, wide wings, but both Axe and Wing got the full brunt of what he kept from the others.

_Mine_.

Intense, nearly enough to slip the giant's tight self-control, but kept in check for the moment.

"Our sparkling, Firefly." Stormcloud ran a hand over his creation's helm, smiling at the little mechling.

Green optics, inherited from his carrier, blinked up at the much larger blue mech. "You're Dai Atlas? My creators told me about you."

"Good things, I hope," he managed to smile at the red youth, already almost Wing's size despite being only half grown. His spark was twisting in on itself, but it was his processors, protocols so ancient and unneeded they should have been deleted generations ago, that the real turmoil was lodged in. In his higher function processors he knew, without doubt, that he was only responding to Firefly as a sparkling, not because of any reaction to his situation or creators.

Axe glanced at his mate, sensing the turmoil through their bond. One dark hand sneaked over to curl around Dai Atlas' larger white one.

"Good things," Firefly agreed, leaning over the table in curious interest. Red and gold wings fanned out slightly. "I've been looking forward to meeting you. I was kindled while you and Axe were away."

The movement closer and stated interest was more than Dai Atlas' scrambled thought processes could handle. In a single movement he was on his pedes, around the creators' backs and scooped the sparkling up in his arms so their sparks were close. His wings flicked a muted apology to Shogun and Stormcloud, but it settled his protocols enough to _think_ again.

~I'm going to have a long binding ahead of me on this,~ Dai Atlas murmured to his mate.

Firefly yipped in surprise, wings flaring out and flapping a couple of times. It took a moment for the surprise to wear off, the youngling relaxing in a way that said this was not the first time he'd been scooped up by surprise, and he _knew_ no one in the Citadel would try to hurt him. Shogun eyed the larger mech, optics narrowing as bright orange met Dai Atlas' red. The look was a clear "hurt him and you will regret it". Then the red mech relaxed somewhat, leaning back in his chair to watch.

Wing, caught by surprise, nearly fell right off Dai Atlas' shoulder. Twisting around, he grabbed at blue armor and wide white wing, trying to avoid a helm-first trip to the floor. He clung to Dai Atlas' back, nearly upside-down, like a magneto-lizard on a ceiling until the blue mech stilled, then righted himself and climbed back onto his creator's shoulder.

Amusement flowed through the bond. ~I don't doubt it. That's going to be an interesting binding.~ Axe's blue optics gleamed.

~With an unusually predictable ending,~ Dai Atlas managed to find the humor in it now that protocols had settled somewhat and he nuzzled the youngling in his arms, protocols lining up with all the impertinence of Firefly being _his_. ~It's good I didn't get _this_ bad out there, or I might have grabbed more than mature mecha that happened to be the right size.~

"That was unexpected..." Wing resettled himself, this time making sure he had a firm grip. Gold optics gave Dai Atlas a puzzled look.

Firefly chirped, returning the nuzzle. He didn't seem the least bit bothered about having been snatched out of his seat. His creators had told him about the ancient blue mech since he'd separated; he had no fear of the much larger mech.

Stormcloud lifted an optic rim. "I've seen the reaction of older mecha to Firefly, but nothing quite like that. What brought that on?"

~I look forward to that ending,~ Axe replied. ~And you have a point. If you'd been scooping up younglings and sparklings out there, then there would have been trouble.~

"My creator protocols have been growing increasingly demanding since we met Wing," Dai Atlas admitted, his systems more soothed than he'd ever admit by having the youngling in his arms and inside his field. "It seems that I've reached a critical point."

Stormcloud lifted a sensor wing to poke at Wing teasingly. "Looks like you got under his armor even more than anticipated, jetling." He tilted his helm at Dai Atlas, regarding the larger mech measuringly for a long klik.

Wing shifted slightly on Dai Atlas' shoulder. "Is that a good thing?"

"I like him," Firefly announced, wiggling into a more comfortable position against black chest armor and found that strong arms easily adapted to his new position. The flare of pleasure in Dai Atlas' field only reinforced the youngling's opinion.

"Which means you'll likely be seeing a lot of him," Shogun added with a chuckle. "Those he likes he tends to hang around with as much as he can get away with. It keeps him out of trouble. Usually."

Dai Atlas cracked a devilish smirk as he cradled the youngling, happy to have his processors clear for the moment. "Given that means he'll be hanging around with Wing and Axe as well, don't count on it."

Shogun mock-groaned while his bonded chuckled. "Life around the Citadel is certainly going to be interesting. And now that you're back, Wing won't be moping quite as much anymore, which means there will be at least harmless mischief afoot."

"And Axe has an interesting sense of humor, too," Wing added with a grin.

The red Altihexian pointed his cube toward his offspring. "Just remember, little scamp, I used to be a cop. If you pull any stunts that could be dangerous, I will trace it back to you, and any co-conspirators, and you'll be grounded until you're as old as Dai is."

Red wings quivered and tucked tightly against the youngling's frame. "I'll be good."

"I'll be making sure of it," Dai Atlas rumbled in agreement. "Fun, yes. Dangerous, no."

"You're going to be stuck with sparkling sitting duty quite a bit, then." Stormcloud smiled warmly up at the larger blue triple changer. "If you ever get the chance, Dai, I think you would make a fine creator."

"He certainly would," Wing agreed, fluttering his own wings.

Dai Atlas controlled the flash of pain that twisted his spark so he didn't disturb Firefly. "I'm military, we're military," he murmured as if that explained it all. "Wing's as close as it'll get."

At the look of confusion in Stormcloud's wings, Axe spoke up. "Mecha sparked for the military are designed with inhibiters as part of their spark chamber and all the kindling systems and protocols scrupulously absent in case the inhibiter fails. They want to make very sure to control all the military sparks."

The gray Praxian looked shocked. "Oh. I apologize, Dai. I didn't know that." Black-tipped wings folded closer to Stormcloud's back.

Wing's optics flared in matching shock. That was something he hadn't known, either. Shifting on Dai Atlas' shoulder, he leaned down to wrap his arms around his creator's neck in an awkward hug. Firefly blinked up at him, not quite certain what was going on but knowing his new friend was distressed.

"It's all right, little one," Dai Atlas cooed at the youngling. Behaviors that would have been beyond alien when he'd arrived at the Citadel now came so natural he didn't even notice them as odd. "There is no reason for you to know, Stormcloud. It is so far outside most military mecha's awareness that they never think of it. Only command officers actually know why military don't kindle, and that's only because they need us to keep the rank and file occupied enough that the smart, curious ones don't start to wonder why there aren't even regulations regarding carrying mecha."

Stormcloud shook his helm. "It does make sense. I still don't like it, though. But then, I'm not military."

Shogun's optics narrowed as he gazed up at the blue triple changer. "You said that military mecha don't even have the protocols, yet you rather clearly do," he pointed out. An optic rim lifted in a silent request for clarification.

"I was an ancient General when you were kindled," Dai Atlas snorted. "When the rules were put in place I was retrofitted along with everyone else in the army. Apparently they couldn't strip them well enough to keep all of it suppressed when permanently clear of the war zone."

"Makes sense." Shogun nodded. One corner of his mouth quirked in a smile. "I might be younger than you and Axe are, but I'm not _that_ much younger."

"Yes you are," Dai Atlas snorted. "You're close to his age, but mine? Try being sparked under Alpha Prime and you can talk about my age."

"Don't let him get all puffy about it," Axe snickered. "_His_ trainer makes him look like a youngling, and he's still kicking."

Dai Atlas glared at his mate, only to get smirked at in reply.

Green optics gleamed for a moment, and Stormcloud's sensor wings unfurled slightly. "Retrofitted... That means your inhibitor can be removed." His gaze shifted to Axe. "I'm assuming yours can't." There was a questioning tone in his voice.

"We're going to speak with Hardwing, but it seems unlikely," Axe admitted. "It certainly couldn't have been in the time I was created, but even though I'm a youngling compared to him," he nodded at his mate, "I've seen more technological revolutions than I care to think about. I have no idea what medics can do these vorns."

Firefly wiggled in Dai Atlas' arms, clearly getting bored with the conversation. Silver-tipped red and gold wings flapped briefly as the youngling somehow managed to climb up onto Dai Atlas' other shoulder, opposite Wing. "Fly?"

Dai Atlas had enough sense to glance at Shogun for permission.

Shogun chuckled. "He's flown with every other airframe in the Citadel since becoming able to fly. Just don't go too far, and don't let him try the stunts Wing can pull off. He's not built for it."

"I didn't even know he was following me that time," Wing protested, flattening his nacelle pinions. "And I caught him before he fell too far."

Firefly made a face. "I already know I can't fly like Wing can. Remember the lecture you gave me right after that attempt? I'll behave."

"Then come fly with us," Dai Atlas smiled, flaring his own wide wings, each longer than Firefly was tall, but far simpler than the Praxian airframe's. "I'm sure between the three of us we can keep tabs on one energetic youngling. He's hardly the first over-eager flyer we've brought up."

Firefly squealed happily, optics wide and bright as he stared at the larger mech's wings. He was almost bouncing on Dai Atlas' shoulder. Wing grinned at him over the blue mech's helm, his own wings fluttering and wiggling.

Axe rose to his pedes, stretching and finishing his cube. Reaching up, he gently tweaked a silver wingtip, getting a giggle from Firefly. "We won't let him get hurt."

"Definitely not," Dai Atlas agreed with a protective rumble as they turned to head out. "I haven't lost one yet to training."

Shogun tilted his helm slightly to the side, then smiled. "Good to know. He's probably going to be asking you to fly with him quite a bit."

There were a few other fliers in the air when the small group walked out into the courtyard. There was almost no wind and clear skies in every direction. Perfect for flying with an eager youngling.

Wing launched himself right off Dai Atlas' shoulder, Firefly nanokliks behind him. The two stayed low, flying in lazy spirals, waiting for the two larger mechs to join them before going any higher.

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Hardwing was setting up the last of the relatively specialized scanners and tools he would need to determine just how unfixable Axe and Dai Atlas' reproductive systems were. He knew both were functionally non-existent and both spark chambers had inhibiters built into them at a disturbing level. It was work he'd seen before. Every military mecha that came through his bay had similar mutilation. These two were the first to show an interest in finding out if it was fixable.

"Do we have any hope of giving them good news?" Redline asked quietly.

"There is always hope. I do not have much for them, but there is always hope," Hardwing huffed, his wings flaring and settling before Axe and Dai Atlas, Wing on his shoulder, entered the bay. "On the berths. I have a lot of tests to run."

Axe's hand brushed his mate's briefly before heading to one of the berths. Outwardly he appeared fine, but Dai Atlas could feel his nervousness through their bond. Blue optics swept across the medical equipment.

Wing shifted on Dai Atlas' shoulder. "I hope the news is good," the white jet murmured before hopping to the floor.

"As do I, jetling," the larger mech responded just as softly, settling onto the second berth.

Wing found a perch where he could watch but would be out of the way as the two medics went to work. It was disturbing, watching the errors pile up on monitors. Even more so when Hardline opened up Dai Atlas' chassis from groin to neck to examine all the systems, and their former locations, in detail.

The white jet's wings trembled, but he managed to hold still, not wanting to be kicked out. Hardwing would have no problems with grabbing him by the scruff of the neck and tossing him off the balcony if he got in the way or became a distraction. Clamping his armor tight to his frame and pulling his wings close to his back, Wing stayed as still as he could, watching.

Dai Atlas' hand was curled into a fist on the edge of his berth, Axe's hand gripping the edge of his. Both were nervous about what the results of the tests might be and neither dealt well having so much of themselves exposed.

It was an agonizing two and a half joors of silent medics before the pair were sealed up again and managed to relax a bit.

"I can install the reproductive hardware in both of you, though only Dai Atlas' systems are actually built to handle supporting it," Hardwing began. "To install them in Axe would involve what amounts to a full-frame rebuild, including at least half your protoform. I do not recommend it."

The black mech's hand tightened on the edge of the berth, though his expression remained impassive. "I'd rather expected as much. I was built and sparked after the rules about military builds not kindling came into effect."

Dai Atlas looked at his mate, their optics meeting, then his gaze shifted to the white jet watching quietly from nearby. Wing sidled closer, but still remained out of the way. After a klik, the blue triple changer turned his attention back to the medics. "I would like to have the hardware installed," he finally answered, red optics meeting Hardwing's.

The medic nodded. "It will not be easy, though you at least still have the substructure and systems to support it. I would prefer to remove the inhibitor on your spark chamber first. If that can not be done, the rest of the install is pointless." He hesitated. "When you gave me your history, you indicated you had been sparked."

Dai Atlas nodded. "I was sparked into this frame." He shifted on the medberth, watching the chief medic intently. Wing finally sidled into reach, and a large white hand lifted to lightly stroke the red-crested white helm.

"Not according to your chamber," Hardwing watched the giant carefully. "There are distinct differences in how a spark chamber is built inside a carrier vs. by a mecha's hand. Yours was definitely built inside a carrier. That's why your protocols could never been completely suppressed."

Red optics widened, Dai Atlas' hand stilling on Wing's helm. "What?" His tone expressed utter shock. "I don't remember ever having a carrier or a sire. How is that possible?"

From the other berth, Axe stared. Through the bond he could feel just how shocked his mate was. Neither had ever expected this.

"The simplest way would be to fully wipe your processors after you were in your adult frame. A complete reformat," Hardwing sighed. "It's an accepted method for giving a criminal that can't be reformed a chance to live. It's also an effective method to convince a mecha they've just been sparked so they accept anything they are told."

Dai Atlas sat there, trying to digest this new piece of information. Questions were whirling through his processor. He wondered who his own creators had been, though he knew that by now they were likely long since deactivated. He also had to wonder who or what he had been before the reformat. Again, a question he would likely never have the answers to.

It took a half breem or so for the big mech to push all the unanswerable questions aside and focus on Hardwing again. "And that's why my creator protocols weren't completely suppressed?"

"I would expect so," the medic nodded. "As you know, there are several former military mecha here, and I have treated many more. You are the first to have creator protocols that ever went this direction. Some will adopt adults, as you did Wing, mimicking the military mentoring system, but none desire a true sparkling, or react to them the way you do. I am reasonably confident that what interest Axe shows has more to do with long-term exposure to you than anything inherent to him. He does read as a completely normal, if old, military frame."

There was a mutter from Axe at the "old" as cautious agreement seeped through the bond. Blue optics met red as Dai Atlas looked over to his mate, then the blue mech looked down as Wing evidently decided he was done lurking and crawled into his creator's lap. The bigger mech ran one palm over folded white wings.

"This is... quite a shock," Dai Atlas murmured.

"Understatement," Axe chimed in.

"I am sure it was," Hardwing sighed before glancing between the mates. "I can try to remove enough of Axe's inhibitor to enable him a chance to kindle with you. The odds would be small, even if it works. It also carries serious risks greater than all the modifications that have to be done on Dai Atlas. Tinkering with a spark chamber is very dangerous at best."

Dai Atlas turned toward Axe, who was looking at the medic. Blue optics shifted to him. ~I would dearly love the chance to try and create a sparkling with you, love, but not if there is a chance that you could be harmed,~ the blue mech murmured.

~I'm not so keen on your chances in this either,~ Axe replied. ~I don't want to lose you. Are you sure you need to do this? Maybe we can find a sparkling that lost its creators?~

The blue giant's wings trembled. ~This is something I _want_. Yes, I need to do this.~ Red optics met blue.

Axe's frame slumped slightly. ~Then if all goes well with your rebuild, we'll see what he thinks of my chances. Otherwise ... who would you want? Would you carry?~

Redline glanced between the pair. "If this has to do with the surgery, out loud please."

~For you, yes, I would carry,~ Dai Atlas murmured. ~Others, I would have to think on.~ He looked at Redline and Hardwing, his hand once again stroking the back of the white jet in his lap. "I do want the hardware installed, and the inhibitor removed, if it can be done."

"Then you have much to discus with each other. It will take me at least a metacycle to compile all the parts and tools I'll need, and speak with some of my colleagues on the outside about this," Redline said. "Reconstructive surgery is possible, that much I'm sure of, but I've never done it before. I may need to call in a specialist. Do any of you have any questions for me right now?"

"None that you would have any answers for." Dai Atlas scooped Wing off his lap so that he could get to his pedes. Wing shifted position, curling into the blue mech's arms, bathed in Dai Atlas' troubled field.

~Spar, love?~ Axe offered what was still the best way for them to process stress.

~Yes, definitely.~ Dai Atlas leaned over to touch his shoulder to his mate's. ~I have... a great deal to process. So many questions I will never know the answers to.~

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Axe walked into the quarters he shared with his bonded mate and was promptly hit by a fluttering, keening white blur. Wing's wings were vibrating and twitching back and forth so rapidly they were only visible as blurs of white, his gold optics wide with distress.

The black and gold triple changer sighed, stroking the white jet's helm and backstruts to calm him. "What's wrong, Wing?"

"It's Dai." Wide, distressed gold optics met blue. "What's wrong with him?"

"Hardwing dropped a major bombshell on him, and it's thrown Dai nosecone over tailfins," Axe replied, giving a ping along their bond to find his mate. "You saw him in the badlands, didn't you?"

Wing shuddered at the reminder. "I think half the Citadel saw him. That was rather hard to miss." The small jet fidgeted. "Has nearly everyone freaked out."

"That's just a military lifer when meditation, binding, katas and sparring aren't enough to settle him." Axe stroked Wing's back, his field encompassing the smaller mech with a calming energy. "He's facing a _lot_ of very important questions that he'll never have the answers to. He's thought he knew where he was from, why he'd been sparked his entire existence, only to find out that it's all been a lie. Everything he's ever thought about himself is a lie. He'll be a time accepting that."

Wings trembling, the jet pressed against Axe's plating. "I can see why he would be upset. His world was turned upside-down. But still, it's very unnerving, seeing what he can do when his temper is really roused."

Axe hummed. "I always thought witnessing his gift would be worse, but what he's doing now has been normal for much of our existence. Though just for reference, he's stressed, not particularly angry."

"_That_ is stress?" Wing blinked at the black mech. "I don't think I ever want to see him really mad, then."

"Yes, that is stress. Suicidal depression is when he thought I'd deactivated. Anger ... tends to make stars to go supernova." Axe chuckled a bit. "His anger, _real_ anger, is a truly spectacular event."

"And something I never, ever want to see," Wing informed him emphatically. Slender wings twitched. "How long will he be out there blowing holes in the landscape?"

"I hope you never witness it," Axe murmured, stroking Wing's back gently. "I never want to face anything that causes his _anger_ again. For how long he'll be at this ... a few orns, until he's ready to fall out of the sky. Then he'll recharge himself out and probably boot up in the present once more."

The white jet curled into Axe's plating, leaning into the touch. "He'll come back here when he's done?"

"Yes," Axe reassured him gently. "Or more likely, he'll ping me to get him and I'll drag his aft back here. Honestly, I'm just glad he _asked_ for his old weapons, instead of getting overcharged until he can't process one plus one anymore."

A slender white wing twitched. "I don't think I want to know what he might do overcharged and in that particular frame of mind. It most likely would not be a pretty sight."

"It's not," Axe agreed grimly. "But try not to think about it. We aren't going to lose you. He's not going to do that anymore. He _likes_ this existence."

That got a soft chirr from the jet. "I'm glad. I don't want to lose either of you." He leaned his cheek against warm black armor, venting a sigh.

"It's very mutual, my little flutter-bot." Axe nuzzled him. "Up for a spar or three? I could use a workout to burn off what's leaking into my systems from his."

Wing perked up a bit. "Certainly. I always enjoy sparring with you." White wings fluttered happily as he returned the nuzzle before climbing onto Axe's shoulder for the walk to the sparring rooms.

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~Did he sound upset?~ Dai Atlas asked his mate as they walked towards the Sovereign's office after they had finished their chores for the orn.

~No, but when does he?~ Axe pointed out.

~When I asked for my weapons back,~ he shrugged, sharing that memory that was more horrified Sovereign than angry one.

Vanguard watched the two as they entered his office, steepling his fingers as he studied them. His expression gave away nothing of his state of mind; not even his wings twitched from their perfect neutral stance.

"Since you have returned your former weapons to the vault, can I safely assume that they have done what you needed them to?"

"Yes," Dai Atlas canted his wings in thanks.

The Seeker nodded. He looked the taller mech over for a long moment before speaking again. "Might I inquire as to what it was that Knight training and ways could not help you deal with?"

Dai Atlas huffed, his armor fluffing and settling. "Time. It can't compress time. Binding and meditation would have worked, eventually. What it wouldn't have managed is to untangle my processors before I did something monumentally stupid."

A burgundy wing flicked. "While I am glad you have managed to get your processors straightened out, it would have been preferable, at least to me, for the method to have been... less destructive. You are coming to terms with whatever it was that created the issue in the first place?"

"Enough for preferable methods to work," he nodded, one wing twitching. "Being informed that the foundation of your entire existence was a lie doesn't end cleanly, Sovereign. It leaves too many questions that at my age will never be answered."

Vanguard tilted his helm to one side, clearly curious but refraining from asking. "I can see how that would create such a tangle in your processors."

Dai Atlas cocked his helm, a flicker of confusion crossing his wings. "What aren't you asking?"

"I have not heard what it is that made you so upset," the Seeker answered.

Deep red optics cycled. "Hardwing didn't tell you?"

"It falls under the heading of doctor-patient confidentiality. Hardwing will not tell me without a direct order and a pressing reason to do so." Calm white optics met confused red.

"Right. Civilian law," Dai Atlas drew in a deep breath and let it out. "I was kindled, not sparked military," he said the simple words that still made his wings tremble and Axe lean close to offer physical support. "Why I was reformatted, or what I was before, is unlikely to ever be known."

"Or who your sire and carrier were." Vanguard's white gaze was compassionate. "I can understand your reaction. Any mech would be thrown by a revelation like that."

Dai Atlas inclined his helm. "Or that," he agreed, though to be honest they'd never entered his processors until mentioned. Neither were terms that mattered to anything in his existence. He had his mentor, his creator, in Titanium, and he was still comfortable with that. But with what he _may_ have been, with _why_ he'd been reformatted, those were questions that would trouble him for many vorns to come. "Have you learned about why I learned of my real origins?"

"I have heard of your desire to have your reproductive systems rebuilt," Vanguard agreed. He tilted his helm slightly to one side. "I do hope all goes well for you. But, if the surgery should fail, have you given any thought to what you might do?"

"If it can be done, have protocols installed to counter what can't be stripped," he said unsteadily. "If it can't be ... I'm not entirely sure."

It was a lie, he knew. He shouldn't lie to his commander, but he couldn't _say_ it yet. It hadn't happened yet, so he wouldn't give it too much thought.

Vanguard knew there was _something_ his Knight wasn't saying. White optics met red levelly before the red pair dropped, a tact admission that the Sovereign was correct.

Axe caught Vanguard's gaze, silently pleading him not to press yet. That this did not need to be said. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

White optics met blue, and then Vanguard nodded slightly. "As I said before, I hope the surgery goes well. For both of you." His gaze took in both of the ancient pair.

"Thank you," Axe said, giving his mate an extra moment to pull his wits together. It was intensely unsettling to feel Dai Atlas so rattled.

The Sovereign inclined his helm to both of them. He could see from the very faint trembling of Dai Atlas' wings that the blue triple changer was barely keeping it together. "I wish you both well. You may go."

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Wing trotted through the corridors of the Citadel's residence tower, where the Senior Knights had their quarters. He'd been busy with chores most of the orn and hadn't yet had a chance to see his creators. The jet was aware that Vanguard had had a meeting with them, and there had been several more consults with Hardwing and Redline over the last few orns. Finally free of his chores, Wing was going to see how Dai Atlas and Axe were doing.

Reaching their door, he tapped in the code, humming absently to himself as he crossed the main living area. Hearing sounds from the berthroom, he headed in that direction, opening his mouth to speak as he entered.

The little white jet stopped dead in his tracks as soon as he cleared the door, golden optics going almost perfectly round. White armor puffed out, slender wings flaring open in startled surprise. A squeak escaped his vocalizer as he just stood and _stared_.

Dai Atlas was bound, wrists above his helm to the berth frame, wings pinned flat with magnetic clamps and legs spread and bound to the corners of the berth on the other end. Axe was all but on top of him, driving his spike in so hard the larger mech's entire frame jerked with every thrust. Between them Dai Atlas' thick, long spike was fully pressurized and begging for attention Axe wouldn't give it.

Wing felt like his whole frame had locked up. He couldn't even twitch. All he could do was just stand there are stare, optics so wide he was a bit surprised they hadn't popped out or cracked yet. _This_ was most definitely not what he had expected to see the elder mechs doing.

But it was fragging hot. Wing's cooling fans kicked on with a loud whir, his nacelles revving.

That was enough to drag Axe's attention away from pounding into his mate. Rich blue optics locked onto Wing, glittered hotly with mischief, a look that soon reached the black mech's face. "He looks amazing, all trussed up and helpless to do anything but take what's given, isn't he?"

The jet tried to reply, but all that came out was another squeak. White armor ruffled and fluffed, like the feathers of an organic bird, before Wing managed to nod. Finally getting himself to move, the jet drifted closer, easing to one side for a better look of Axe's thick spike sliding in and out of his mate's valve. Each draw and thrust dragged a need-filled moan and shudder from the bound mech as Dai Atlas struggled to gain enough control to be _part_ of the interfacing.

"He does look amazing," Wing finally managed to say, wings fluttering and wiggling behind him. His bright golden gaze was locked on the action; the slide of spike, the glistening of lubricant, the jerk and struggles of Dai Atlas' frame in tandem with wordless, incoherent cries.

"He'd look more amazing with you riding that spike," Axe suggested hotly.

White wings and pinions flared out, the white jet's audial fins twitching as he contemplated that idea. A klik later, a grin of mischief that matched Axe's own appeared on Wing's face. "He's only ever taken me once... It will require a bit of preparation." Wing's grin widened.

"Then get up here so he can watch me stretch you out," Axe growled, rolling his hips until his mate's optics managed to focus on the being crawling up on his abdominals.

"W-Wing?" the sound that made it out of Dai Atlas' vocalizer was almost as much squeak as Wing's first sound had been.

The little jet grinned brightly down at Dai Atlas, fluttering his wings at the blue mech as he climbed up onto Dai Atlas' torso, valve cover already open. "Hi!" Wing chirped, bright grin clearly hinting at mischief. The very tip of one footplate brushed lightly, teasingly, against the much larger mech's spike before Wing moved his leg away.

"I'm going to work him until you _beg_ to have him on your spike," Axe rumbled, optics locked on Dai Atlas' as he watched comprehension very slowly dawn in them.

Wing's cyber-cat-with-turbo-canary grin widened, optics gleaming with mischief. Fluttering his wings playfully, he lowered his front half until his chest was pressed against blue metal, aft in the air. Lubricant seeped around his valve platelets, dripping down onto Dai Atlas' plating.

He could feel it in the giant's field every time a drop connected, as well as every movement that Axe made. Then his entire focus was centered on Axe and the large finger as it stroked his valve entrance, teasing and spreading the lubricant along itself.

"You really get off on watching hard bondage, don't you?" Axe rumbled, turned on by so many things.

Wing moaned softly, pressing back into that finger. "First time I've ever seen it," he purred, wiggling his hips and nacelle pinions. "But frag, is it ever hot."

"It's even hotter to be part of from the beginning," Axe promised, sliding his finger to circle the entrance of Wing's valve. "The trust it takes for a warrior to submit, to give up all control to you, can be as intoxicating as high grade."

"Then I'm sorry I arrived so late." Black hands kneaded warm armor, Wing's cockpit scraping lightly against Dai Atlas' chest as the little jet squirmed, another moan escaping. His armor began to fluff out, venting heat, and his nacelles revved again, vibrating through his frame and into the frame below him.

"Don't be," Axe chuckled as he pressed his finger carefully forward. "You know he'd never agree to this if he wasn't already completely submitting to me."

"You have a point." Wing gasped softly, back arching. "Then I'd miss out on all the fun. Ooh!" Slender, shining white wings performed a rapid, intricate little flutter-wiggle as Wing dropped his helm to nuzzle Dai Atlas' ebony chestplate.

It was Dai Atlas who keened first, the sound a strange mixture of pleasure, desperation and distress. Axe's purr at the sound was the reassurance Wing needed to continue enjoying the stretch of Axe's finger pressing deeper into his valve.

Bright golden optics sparkled at Dai Atlas as Wing pressed back into Axe's finger, chirring and moaning as the black and gold mech's fingertip brushed over the sensor nodes lining his valve. Wing's fingers kneaded Dai Atlas' armor, skimming along the seams, lubricant leaking from his valve in a steady stream, forming a small puddle on the larger mech's plating.

Another whine escaped Dai Atlas as his processor once more lost track of _who_ was on his chest, aware only that his bonded was deep inside him and commanded him to enjoy what was done to him, for him, before him. His hips struggled to roll into Axe's thrusts once more as his spike twitched and strained, knowing exactly how good a mech as small as the one on his chest would feel. His optics locked on the slide of Axe's finger and the drip of lubricant; the sensations and sights of intense arousal.

He _wanted_. Just not enough to beg yet.

Wing's hips pressed back into Axe's hand, straining to take that finger in deeper, shifting to guide the tip toward the most sensitive sensor nodes. The jet panted and trilled, soft gasps and moans escaping now and then. Hot air flowed from his vents, gliding over Dai Atlas' armor. Leaning down, Wing nipped gently at Dai Atlas' chestplate, his glossa darting along the edges of the armor plates.

"You are good at this," Axe rumbled, more than a bit turned on himself by what he was doing, by the subtly forbidden nature of it. There may not be any laws against interfacing with your creation, especially one adopted in their adult frame, but it didn't make it any more accepted by much of the population.

With a hard thrust of his hips forward Axe drew his finger almost completely out of Wing before pressing two in slowly, all but forcing the white jet to do the work of taking them in deeper.

"I've heard myself referred to as sensuality incarnate once or twice," Wing chirped back, a soft mew breaking the sentence in half he rolled his hips, taking Axe's fingers in deeper. The calipers of his valve rippled against the black mech's digits, working them as they would a spike. "I've never encountered a pleasure I didn't want to try."

"I hope you find a mate with a bit of self-restraint, or the two of you will never get anything else done," Axe snickered, moaning at the flares of desire, need and pleasure washing across the bond. He continued to press his fingers in until he felt the nodes at the very back of the valve. "Though you might need an entire flock to keep you sated."

Wing laughed, wiggling his wings at the black and gold mech. Then Axe's fingers wiggled against the nodes at the back of his valve, sending Wing keening into overload. The trickles of lubricant from his valve became a steady flow as _pleasure_ washed through Wing's field, flaring against the two fields he was currently enveloped in.

That and the flexing tightness of his mate, was enough to send Axe over the edge, his bellow deep and resonant as he flooded his mate's valve with hot, heavily charged transfluid, yet refusing to allow the larger mech release.

Wing stretched, his armor sliding against Dai Atlas', wiggling his hips in a silent demand for more. White wings wiggled rapidly before going stiff, tips twitching. Shifting position, he let out a soft mewing sound, leaning down to nip and nuzzle along the edge of an armor seam, teasing the bigger mech under him.

"How many times do you want to overload around him?" Axe asked as he drew in deep vents to recover from his overload and regain the coordination to work both his hips and hand again. Despite being sharply aware of just how desperate Dai Atlas was to overload, they both knew the rules and function of this game. Dai Atlas had to surrender, _completely_, and he wasn't ready to do that just yet.

Wing trilled. "As many times as I can before I pass out, once I'm ready," he answered, squirming. Arching his back, he took Axe's fingers in as deep as they could go. He whined when they withdrew, only to tremble at the near-painful stretch of three fingers, each the size of the spike he was most used to taking in.

"Then try to hold out until I get you ready," Axe chuckled, rolling his hips against his mate's, watching with eager optics the turmoil Dai Atlas was experiencing at this intense mixture of need and disapproval.

It stung, but only briefly. Wing adjusted quickly, and the faint whine of discomfort became a moan of bliss. White armor flared out all the way, heat shimmering over his frame, nacelles revving higher and higher. Wing wriggled all over, taking those three fingers in deep. It felt insanely good. Not even Shogun stretched him this much, or even when Atl and Thorn both spiked him at once.

"Think you're ready?" Axe asked, drawing his fingers nearly out and pressing them back in deeply.

"Almost," the little white jet gasped out, stretching and pressing his chestplate against Dai Atlas'. His hands curled loosely over blue shoulders, the jet sliding forward to sneak a quick kiss, wriggling away before the blue mech had time to respond, one way or another. He could feel the intense turmoil in his creator's field and desperately wanted to ease it, yet the strength and sureness in Axe's spoke of a situation that was under control and doing its purpose.

Huge fingers pulled out of him once more, drawing along all of the sensors, before plunging back in all the way to the back.

Wing pressed back into those fingers, moaning as they stroked over all of the sensors lining his valve, the moan rising into a whine as they were withdrawn. Venting hot air, trying to cool his systems, Wing tilted his helm at Dai Atlas, then looked over his shoulder at Axe, making sure to do so as showily as he could. "Dai isn't allowed to overload yet?"

"Not until he gives in," Axe told him, rolling his hips against his mate's once more. "This serves a purpose beyond any pleasure it might generate."

Deep red optics were still locked on Wing, watching him. The giant's field was a sea of turmoil and mixed emotions, some clearly related to what was physically happening, others harder to trace.

Wing hummed, one hand lifting to gently trace the black markings on Dai Atlas' cheeks, feeling the way the giant he cared so much about trembled at the tender touch. Gold optics met red and red darkened even further in desire that Dai Atlas, in any level of his right mind, would have suppressed, rejected, denied.

"It will be interesting to see how long he can hold out," the jet murmured, his valve rippling against Axe's fingers as he now soaked in all the complex, contradictory signals and layers of meaning and _need_ in the field of the great mech that was, in so many ways, in no control at all. Yet it was Dai Atlas that held the ultimate control in this, for it was his need that was driving it.

"As long as he has to, to accept what he needs to," Axe said softly, stretching his fingers a bit as he drew out and pressed back in.

The white jet fluttered nacelle pinions and shoulder spires, stroking his fingers along the seams of Dai Atlas' chestplates, index fingertip drawing lazy spirals on blue and black armor. A deep purring moan escaped as Axe's fingers drew out, then pressed in again.

"Will you push him _hard_, or just ride his spike?" Axe suddenly asked, the words causing Dai Atlas' entire frame to lock up as his optics flared brightly and mouth opened in a mute expression of shock.

Wing looked over his shoulder at Axe, his grin full of mischief. "Which is more fun?"

"It depends on whether you ever wanted to get your hands inside another mecha's chest," Axe purred, a distinct impression that _he_ enjoyed it immensely.

Dai Atlas, on the other hand, actually managed a sound of protest. Axe slammed his hips forward in retaliation, forcing a keen from his mate.

White audial fins flared in interest. "Sounds interesting," he purred. The white jet patted Dai Atlas' chest, grinning at the larger mech, who was now trembling. Deep red optics looked up to meet blue.

With a sound deep in his throat Dai Atlas unlocked his chest plates, offering his very life force to the curious mech he'd adopted.

Golden optics widened as Wing caught sight of the red orb in its crystalline prison. He'd seen it before, but never this close. One dark hand lifted, then paused. White wings fluttered as Axe's fingers found and stroked over a sensor node, Wing's hips squirming at the stretch and pleasure. It felt _so good_ ... and yet he could get spiked any orn. When would he get this close to a spark again?

He could feel Dai Atlas' trembling, and it wasn't the good kind either. Behind him Axe's field was a soothing reassurance.

Wing purred, leaning down to nuzzle the edges of the blue mech's armor plating. Light fingertips skimmed over the exposed circuitry, keeping the touch light. Golden optics met deep red, hoping ... hoping to see something other than fear in them.

He wasn't going to get it. His creator was afraid.

A large black hand came around from one side to gently cup the large crystal chamber, the thumb stroking the complex surface until Dai Atlas slowly began to relax back into the trust that allowed him to be bound and the overload inhibitor activated in the first place.

"You know I won't hurt you," Wing murmured. His fingers stroked over the circuits, very slowly working his way in until his hand brushed over Axe's, just barely skimming the crystal surface. The flux and flares of his creator's field were intense there, every minute change clear and unmuted by systems or intent. Processors may fear, but the spark that powered them did not.

Dai Atlas' vents hitched, a mixture of pleasure and stress, but that spark didn't lie; the touch felt good and it was very welcomed.

The purring jet stroked again, very lightly, his fingertips just brushing the crystal. Bracing himself against Dai Atlas' torso armor, Wing shifted his hips against Axe's other hand while continuing to lightly run his fingers over exposed circuits, tracing the edges of the blue Knight's spark crystal.

It felt _amazing_ to touch it, even one that belonged so completely to another. To feel the pulse of life and emotions unfiltered by thought or training. To know that even this vulnerable his creator's spark _trusted_ him was a serious rush.

Slow, more sensation than sound, a moan rolled from Dai Atlas as his chassis admitted what his spark already knew: he _liked_ Wing's sensual touch.

Wing trilled in response, his fingers feathering light, almost teasing touches across Dai Atlas' circuitry, ghosting over circuit boards and internal systems. Leaning forward slightly, the jet blew gently across the exposed wiring, setting off sensors left and right.

"Sensually incarnate," Axe murmured, watching his mate's optics close fully as he submitted to the contact and the desires he fought every time Wing touched him. "You laid down that law yourself, my love. Enforced it over regulations and even direct orders. When all involved desire it, it's not wrong."

Wing skimmed his fingers over Dai Atlas' systems, the nacelles in his shoulders revving high, sending vibrations through his frame and down his arms into the systems he was touching. Greatly daring, the young jet leaned forward, his glossa flicking over the crystal cage holding that deep red spark. Powerful red energy tried to latch onto his face, only to be stopped by the crystal containing it.

The white jet let out a soft chirr of surprise as he withdrew, a motion made less jerky as he was already retreating when it registered what the spark was trying to do. Even as Wing tried to work out if it was a good or bad thing, Dai Atlas' spark chamber spiraled open to allow the tendrils to reach out.

Golden optics widened slightly. Wing glanced back at Axe for a moment before returning his attention to the red threads reaching out toward him when Axe nodded. Cautiously, he leaned forward again, wings fluttering behind him.

Pure spark energy danced across his face, sending zaps of pleasure along every sensor they contacted. That wasn't what held his attention though. It was the intense _connection_ with his creator, with a mech that so clearly loved him dearly. Loved him, feared for him, wanted him close. It was the connection of an EM field mesh taken to the next power.

Wing purred, leaning into the contact. His own spark surged in its casing, his field expressing just how much the jet loved the big blue mech he called his creator.

A deeply pitiful keen escaped Dai Atlas, nearly a sob. His helm thrashed back and forth, given motion his entire frame was seeking. Yet the deep red spark only reached out more, trying to draw Wing's spark closer. In the tumbling emotions Wing teased out the key conflict.

Dai Atlas' very spark _wanted_ him, _needed_ him, and yet couldn't have him for some reason.

Wing echoed the keen, his whole frame trembling. Part of him wanted to give Dai Atlas his spark, but the rest of him insisted otherwise. The blue mech was his creator, but not his mate. White wings folded close to his back for a brief moment, his field expressing the internal conflict to both of the larger mechs.

A large black hand reached forward to stroke trembling white wings while the other continued to stroke Dai Atlas' spark chamber.

"I am sorry you had to feel that," Axe whispered close to Wing's audial. "I wish this could have been done without burdening you. It has been building for vorns, twisting this way and that, but always cycling back to you. He, we, need you to be strong. Love him, but as a creator, not a mate. Help him settle his spark on what you will be to him. Merge ... if you are sure you can resist his spark. Or simply be clear within yourself of what you will be to him."

"I apologize for all the mixed messages," Wing murmured, flattening his armor briefly. "I didn't mean to make things so confused."

Beyond any words, Dai Atlas still responded. Acceptance, gratitude, affection, love that was still conflicted, understanding.

"It is your nature," Axe said gently, still stroking Wing's wings with lubricant smeared fingers. "We do not blame you for it, for all we are thankful you understand how it added to his struggles."

The jet nodded and took a long moment to judge whether he would be able to resist the pull of that spark, the force of Dai Atlas' need. Wing was a strong mech, but he wasn't going to enter a merge unless he was sure he would be able to resist going too far. He understood that Dai Atlas could not resist, not now, maybe not ever.

White wings trembled, leaning into Axe's hand. Then Wing shifted forward. Red-trimmed chestplates parted, revealing a spark as golden as Wing's optics gleaming brightly within its casing.

For an incredibly long moment everything seemed to still. Wing could feel Axe's surprise even as the large mech gently untangled himself from his mate and Wing. This was between Wing and Dai Atlas. It had to be. Axe could support, translate, comment, but in the end, he was not part of this struggle.

Red spark leaders rushed from Wing's face to his spark chamber, dancing and seeking to tangle with the golden light so close.

Wing inhaled deeply, preparing himself, then opened his spark chamber. Gleaming golden threads stretched out to meet red, twining around them and merging into strands of shining orange. The jet trembled all over at the contact, his wings rattling against his back plating, gold optics flaring brightly as the pure nature of Dai Atlas' _need_ crashed into him.

In one blinding moment he understood not just what Axe did for his mate, but why Dai Atlas had so calmly chosen a suicide mission when that bond was thought lost. Dai Atlas. _Burden from God_; he'd never heard Dai Atlas' designation that way, but now he doubted he would ever be able to hear anything but the burden again. The gift of being Primus' map in the physical world, of being able to absolve or inflict the full burdens of their entire race with a song, were a terrible thing to endure for long. It mean _knowing_ every burden, every pain and grief from the separation of Prima from Primus to the newest abomination.

Dai Atlas was desperate, every moment, for things to balance that pain. Wing was a bright spark, full of passion, joy and playfulness that the ancient mech was drawn to in a way that was alien on many levels. It came from being outside real functioning, ever so slightly, because of the connection his gift gave him to Primus.

Wing floundered for a long moment, until he was able to get his mental feet back under him, resisting the urge to merge completely. Dai Atlas was not his mate, not destined to be Wing's bonded.

The little jet's love flowed back through the connection, brushing against Dai Atlas' spark. It was the love of a creation for his creator, one family member to another, but not that of a committed lover.

Love wrapped around Wing in reply, affection and need mingled into a painful thing to inflict on one you loved, and yet it was a burden Dai Atlas needed to share to remain sane. Slowly, gradually, the pull of that great red spark lessened as Wing's decision to be a creation and not a mate settled and spread from spark to processors and back.

The white mech purred so hard his frame vibrated, but he didn't even notice. All his attention was on the contact between his spark and Dai Atlas'. He'd never felt anything like it before, that connection to another mech. Slender wings fluttered and wiggled unnoticed except by the watching mech, who was gradually sagging in relief.

~Love you, need you,~ Dai Atlas whispered across the temporary connection with Wing. ~Need you to never waver on what you wish to be.~

~Your creation, your family,~ Wing murmured back. ~I love you, as my creator.~

Dai Atlas gave himself more time to assimilate that, work it deep into his spark and processors. As the need to bond with Wing faded to a dim whisper, something Dai Atlas knew would never fade, the cascade of consequences began to fall. One set of futures fell away and another took prominence. Wing ≠ bonded. Reproductive protocols took further prominence, but with far less confusion as to the draw.

Dai Atlas was _old_. Protocols dating back to Prima demanded he contribute to the population.

All this while Wing watched, Dai Atlas all but oblivious to the other mech.

Wing watched, chirring softly, basking in the connection he shared with the much older mech, temporary as that connection was. Leaning his helm down, he nuzzled Dai Atlas' cheek. ~I'll find my own mate some orn, but I will _always_ be your jetling,~ he whispered, startling Dai Atlas out of his contemplation of largely-welcome fallout.

~I hope you never lose your joy in existing,~ Dai Atlas replied, calling his spark back to his frame even as he showed Wing how to do it. ~Not every merge ends in overload. Not all of them are meant to. The greater your understanding of how to control your spark the more joyful your eventual spark-loving will be.~

Orange threads unwound into gold and red, retreating back to their respective sparks. Wing's spark chamber slowly closed around the gold light that was his very essence. White armor and wings trembled the jet came back to himself. Leaning forward, Wing brushed his lips lightly against Dai Atlas' cheek, letting out a soft purr.

There were soft clicks as the restrains came off Dai Atlas at Axe's silent command and strong arms came up to wrap around him, holding him in the familiar embrace they usually shared at night.

Wing could feel Dai Atlas already dropping into recharge, one that was likely to be unusually deep as a deep defrag ran. He settled down onto the larger mech's chestplate, his hips squirming slightly, valve cover still open. Golden optics dimmed, Wing purring warmly. He would need to track down one of his other lovers later.

"That was interesting," he murmured, looking over to Axe as the black mech settled on the berth next to his mate. "That was the first time I've ever touched another mech's spark... It was an incredible experience."

"It is," Axe smiled and reached out to stroke Wing's back. "The touch of a lover's spark is indescribable. Should I ping Shogun for you?"

Carefully, Wing eased out of Dai Atlas' hold, sitting up on the larger mech's torso before sliding off. He leaned into Axe's hand, purring softly. "Please. After that, I'm going to need a partner, and Shogun is always agreeable."

Axe smiled and pinged the other extra large Knight and waited for the response. "He and Stormcloud are in their quarters. Just please close your cover before flying over."

Wing grinned. "And he doesn't mind sharing with 'Cloud." The little jet finally closed his valve cover, then jumped up to hug Axe before trotting out onto the balcony and flying toward Shogun's quarters.

With a sigh Axe settled in next to his mate and relaxed. As impressively well as this went, he still had that spark-twisting sense that things were going to get much worse before they got better.

SXSXSXSXSXSXSXSX S===================S SXSXSXSXSXSXSXS

A little over a metacycle had passed since Dai Atlas had asked for his reproductive systems to be rebuilt. The blue mech had been summoned by Hardwing for the pre-surgery prep.

The parts Hardwing had needed had been delivered just under a decaorn before. Dai Atlas and Axe had been just finishing a consult with the medics, Wing on Dai's shoulder as usual, when the parts had arrived. The courier had been a mech who actually stood slightly taller than Dai Atlas, a white and deep gray airframe, very clearly a teleporter. The courier, introducing himself as Titanus, had appeared out of nowhere in a blue flash and a small _pop_ of displaced air, bringing with him a hover-pallet laden with carefully-packed parts. His sudden appearance had startled Wing right off Dai Atlas' shoulder, slender wings flailing and armor fluffed out; the young jet had clearly never met a teleporter before. Only a quick snatch by Axe saved Wing from an awkward impact with the floor.

All four of the older mecha had to stifle laughs, some more successfully than others.

Titanus, looking sheepish, had apologized for startling the little jet while the medics unloaded the parts, Hardwing checking to make sure everything was there. Wing had kept a careful optic on the teleporter, but Titanus' departure, as sudden as his arrival, had still managed to startle the young jet again.

Walking into the medbay for the prep work, Dai Atlas was visibly nervous to anyone who could read him. Wing was chirring softly on his shoulder, and Axe's hand was wrapped firmly around the larger mech's, his shoulder just touching Dai Atlas' armor.

"On the berth," Hardwing motioned to the most advanced of his medical berths in the surgery. "You two, meditate. This will not be quick."

Axe kissed his mate's cheek and nodded to the medic before settling in a corner on his knees and sinking into a light meditative state.

Dai Atlas lifted Wing off his shoulder, holding the white mech in his arms for a moment. Wing gave him an affectionate nuzzle and a very soft trill before being placed on his pedes and trotting over to join Axe. One white wing flopped open, resting against Axe's thigh as Wing settled into his own meditation.

Steeling himself, Dai Atlas walked over to the med berth, settling onto it and laying back. His wings quivered slightly, then folded as close to his back as they could get. "I am ready."

"Just relax," Hardwing smiled gently at him. "When you boot up, you should be fully intact once more."

Dai Atlas nodded, doing his best to relax. Red optics powered down as one of the medics reached over to put him into deep medical stasis.

Wing twitched slightly when Dai Atlas' chassis was opened up from neck to valve, but somehow managed to settle himself down as the medics went to work.

The little jet was almost vibrating anxiously and finding it hard to settle into a deep meditative state. Every now and then he would rouse from his trance, looking over to watch the medics and listen to the technical jargon being thrown back and forth. He could see the monitors from where he knelt, and to him the readings looked good. Sidling sideways slightly, Wing leaned against Axe's dark armor, finding the black and gold triple changer's presence a great comfort.

If Dai Atlas was weakening or in real trouble, Axe would probably know before the medics. If Axe was calm and centered, Dai Atlas must be doing all right. Joors passed, early morning passing to evening when there was a short break for the medics to down a cube of energon before returning to work.

Wing stirred from his kneeling position only once, to stretch out a kink that had formed in one leg. He was pretty sure it was a result of how nervous he was; he'd knelt in one place far longer without any problems. Fishing out a cube of energon from his subspace, he downed it before settling against Axe's side again and doing his best to settle back into meditation.

It was dark outside, though the surgery room lights were bright, and Wing had managed to settle back into meditation. Axe's sudden movement almost startled him right out of his armor. He jumped sideways, scrabbling at the floor to get his balance back, armor standing on end. Gold optics stared up at Axe, then snapped over to the medics.

The sound of Wing being startled caught Hardwing's attention long enough for the CMO to send the small jet a glare, then ignore his presence again. Axe, however, was allowed to join the medical dance as cutters came into play.

::His internals decided not to be where Hardwing expected them.:: Axe's tone was amused. ::Minor issue.::

Wing managed a small chuckle. ::Hardwing had to have _something_ to complain about.:: The jet stretched wings and arms, sliding onto one of the other berths and curling into a ball to watch. It was fascinating when he didn't think about who was on that berth. He really had no concept of how much space the carrier systems took up. Dai Atlas would look weird for a while until everyone got used to his new, thicker abdominal profile.

He could only hope that it not only went well, but Axe's inhibitor could be removed. Wing understood that the black and gold mech could never support the hardware to carry, but it would be terribly sad to go through all this and then not be able to create the sparkling Dai Atlas was so determined to carry.

When he did think about who was on that berth, Wing was a bundle of nerves. It was his creator laying there, armor opened to expose all his internals. The jet just wanted it to be over, for it to have worked, and to one day have a sibling. Thinking about that made his wings twitch happily.

"Happy thoughts are good," Axe smiled as he turned to scratch Wing's helm crest. "He's going to be _sore_ for orns after this. That much rebuilding is never fun."

Wing nodded his understanding, leaning into the scratching, tilting his helm to give Axe access to the more sensitive areas. "And sore mechs are grouchy mechs."

"Yap," Axe grinned and tugged gently on a wing before walking back to their corner. "Hopefully he'll recharge through most of it this time. A sore Dai Atlas is utterly insufferable."

"And this differs from his usual how?" Hardwing groused from where he was working.

Wing slid off the berth, following Axe back to their corner. "If he doesn't, he'll be making use of your hot oil bath. Between the two of us, I think we can keep him from biting anyone's helm off."

Axe snickered as he settled. "I'm sure we can. A cube of high grade, hot oil and something else to focus on all work well. Believe me, I've seen him through more major chassis work than either of us can count."

Wing nodded, settling against Axe's armor. "A cube of high grade, a hot oil bath, his mate, and a lapful of purring jetling should keep him occupied."

"And maybe a good bookfile," Axe smiled. "If he gets _really_ fidgety, I'll just ask Vanguard to assign him to clean all the weapons in the vault. Mech'll be in paradise. No matter what anyone says or trains him to do, he's a soldier and putting weapons in order makes us feel better."

Wing chuckled. "That will definitely keep him occupied." Sidling closer, he managed to wriggle himself under Axe's arm, leaning against him and watching the medics. He'd drifted off, wrapped in Axe's comfortable field and frame, when he felt the large mech try to nudge him awake.

"They're done," Axe murmured quietly. "Time to wake Mr. Sore up."

It took a klik for Wing to boot up completely. The white mech stretched from helm to pede as he disentangled himself from Axe, climbing to his pedes. Slender wings stretched and wiggled to get the kinks out of the joints before folding to his back again. Next to him Axe stood smoothly and stepped up to the berth.

Only Hardline was there now, doing the last checks before bringing Dai Atlas out of stasis. Just the cant of the medic's wings informed Wing that things, overall, had gone well. That was enough to let him relax.

"You know how sore he's going to be more most of a decaorn," Hardwing commented as Axe stopped across from him.

"Too well," the large mech nodded. "Though at least this time it's not because he did something psychotic."

The white mech turned his attention to Dai Atlas as the large mech began the slow, controlled boot. Slender wings quivered against his back, his optics locked on the black glass that gradually began to glow with the strong red fire that was his mentor. Climbing up onto Axe's shoulder for a better look Wing grinned down at the peaceful looking giant with the now oddly normal-proportion abdominal section. "Sore and cranky we can deal with."

Dai Atlas groaned deeply but otherwise didn't try to move. "What _hit_ me?"

With a smirk Axe snickered. "Creator protocols."

"Huh?" Red optics cycled in clear confusion before brightening in comprehension and his helm snapped towards Hardline.

"All my readings say it worked and will integrate fully into your systems within the metacycle," the medic smiled at him. "Just _try_ not to kindle before then."

"Yes, sir," Dai Atlas chuckled, relaxing on the berth for the rest of the boot cycle to finish.

"I'll make sure he behaves himself." Axe ran his hand along Dai Atlas' arm.

Wing chirred his agreement, leaning over as much as he could on Axe's shoulder without falling off. "How are you feeling?"

"Disoriented, heavy," he answered calmly, his optics bright on his adult creation. "Both expected given the additions. I'll be a couple joors getting my coordination back."

"Stay still until you feel up to moving around," Axe advised, his hand firm on his mate's arm. "Trying to walk when you're not sure of your balance will make you even more sore than you already are."

Wing returned Dai Atlas' gaze with a bright grin, wings wiggling happily.

"As if any of you are going to let me so much as roll over until I'm sure I can manage not to fall," Dai Atlas huffed, before chuckling at the antics of Wing's wings.

"Yes, the pool is ready, high grade is waiting, there are book files to read and weapons to polish within an inch of their lives," Axe chuckled, knowing his mate well.

"You just underwent major surgery," Hardwing demanded his attention and got it. "You have hardware and protocols that you haven't had in a _very_ long time, if ever. It will take _time_ to integrate fully. I expect you in here every morning until I say otherwise. Until further notice, you do not have duties to the Order or the Citadel other than to heal. If all goes well, you'll be on light duty in a few orns and moderate duty within a decaorn."

"I understand," Dai Atlas assured him. "This isn't the first time I've been rebuilt. I will behave."

"If you don't, we'll hear about it," Redline added. "And you'll be stuck in here until we see fit to let you out."

Axe chuckled. "You've been warned, Dai."

Wing giggled. "Hot pool, high grade, bookfiles to read, weapons to polish, and wings to pet." He flared his out, wiggling them before folding them again.

"Yes, and a mate to lean against," he smiled up at the two most important mecha in his existence. "I'm sure you've both made arrangements to ensure I've never alone until I'm cleared too," he teased his mate.

"Who me?" Axe feigned innocence.

"Yes you," Dai Atlas chuckled and reached up to pull him down for a kiss with one arm while the other grabbed Wing from Axe's shoulder to hug him against his chassis. "You're _my_ snuggle-toy," he snickered at Wing.

The medics chuckled as Wing's loud purr actually echoed in the room. Wing cuddled into Dai Atlas' armor, rubbing his cheek against warm plating and curling into the larger mech's arms. The little jet made no attempt to deny the statement, humming his agreement. Axe laughed at him, reaching over to gently tweak an audial fin tip.

"That's entirely too adorable," Dagger chuckled as he entered the surgery fresh from the wash rack and a good recharge. "I'll watch'm," he told his mentors. "You two can get some recharge."

Wing chirped a greeting to his second Initiate, adjusting his curl slightly. Resting his chin on Dai Atlas' armor, the jet let golden optics dim contentedly.

Redline nodded to Dagger. "Once we clean up." He eyed the mess on his armor, heading for the medical washrack.

"Wing is adorable personified," Axe chuckled. "Even more so when combined with a Dai in a cuddling mood."

"I can think of other things he is personified," Dagger chuckled and grabbed a chair to relax and wait until Dai Atlas felt like getting up. "But yes, he does adorable extremely well."

That got a chuckle from the white jet. "I've had a lot of practice."

Axe chuckled, reaching over to stroke Wing's crest. "Of that I'm well aware."

"I'm ready to try and stand," Dai Atlas announced evenly, his grip on Wing relaxing. "No riding my shoulder this orn, however."

Wing trilled. "I wasn't going to perch on your shoulder. Axe already warned me off." He slid off Dai Atlas' chest, standing next to the berth but keeping out of the way. He was too small and light to be of any help getting Dai Atlas on his pedes or bracing him. At best he'd need medical care and at worst he'd do harm to his creator.

Dagger stood to be ready, but allowed Axe to be the one ready to catch Dai Atlas as the giant carefully shifted his frame awkwardly to sit up, getting used to the lower center of mass he now had. With that firmly on his processors he stood with reasonable grace for the added bulk to his frame.

Axe watched with critical optics, lightly resting one hand against Dai Atlas' arm. Wing sidled a little farther out of the way, watching carefully as Dai Atlas wavered slightly before steadying his stance.

"Dizzy or calibrating?" Dagger asked with optics even more critical than Axe's.

"Calibrating. Center of mass is lower, but the real oddness is what my wings aren't reading anymore because there is more of me to get in the way," he explained. "I should be fine," he insisted before taking a step to both check and prove the point.

Wing scooted over to stand by Dagger, one wing twitching as he watched the largest of the group test out his balance. Axe stayed close, prepared to catch his mate if balance proved more elusive than Dai Atlas expected.

"He does look reasonably stable, if all he's going to do is walk to his quarters and rest," Dagger told Wing quietly. "The installation went well."

"I'm glad to hear that," Wing murmured back. "And yes, he's going straight to his quarters. Axe will make sure of that, and I have no doubt Redline or Hardwing asked one of the other larger mecha to make sure Dai gets there without falling."

"Shogun, I believe," Dagger nodded, watching as Axe shadowed his mate while Dai Atlas made steady progress around the room, each step more steady and balance than the previous. "Though I have no doubt that Axe can carry his mate if need be. He's stronger than he looks."

"Axe is stronger than he looks," the white jet agreed, watching his creators. Axe was staying close, one hand hovering just above Dai Atlas' armor. "Still, the help will be there if it is needed."

"And it will keep a certain red youngling from doing a full-speed hug," Dagger chuckled. "You look steady enough to make it," he added to Dai Atlas, who nodded.

"Let's go then," Dai Atlas glanced at Wing before heading for the door.

Wing chuckled. "That, too." He grinned at Dagger, then trotted over to join his creators. "Let's go."

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A decaorn after the surgery to rebuilt Dai Atlas' reproductive systems, the blue triple changer leaned back in the oil bath with his mate, one arm wrapped around Axe's shoulders and a dozing white jet draped across his torso. There had been a comfortable silence for several breems as the trio just basked in each others' fields and presences.

Axe shifted slightly, running one palm over his mate's abdomen, where the new systems had been installed. His own inhibitor had proven impossible to remove; the black triple changer had nearly flatlined on the table during the attempt, badly frightening both Dai Atlas and Wing. Axe himself had been disappointed but not overly surprised; the inhibitor had not been built to be removable, nor had it been a postproduction addition.

Dai Atlas hummed, the touch sending a flare of _pleasure-desire_ across the bond. He shifted to nuzzle Axe. "We don't have to decide just yet."

Axe returned the nuzzle. "I know. It's just something I wonder about now and then. You want a sparkling, and I can't give you one."

Regret flowed both ways, but Dai Atlas nodded and stole a quick kiss. "Too many options, sometimes, since it can't be you. I can't say I'm looking forward to not merging with you for so long."

Axe's palm slid over Dai Atlas' torso again, brushing against a white wingtip and getting a sleepy twitch of said wing as the black mech returned the kiss. "Anyone catch your optic as potential sire material? And I can't say I'm looking forward to no merging, either."

"A few," he admitted a bit reluctantly. "Shogun's a big mech and it's proven he can sire a quality sparkling. It's hard to go wrong with someone like Vanguard, for traits or status. That big teleporter, Titanus. I'd want to do more research, but he's got the size and a good gift. Temperament seems good enough. If I can track down Titan in time, he's my top pick." He leaned into his mate and sighed. "It's temping to just throw it open over Vos. Some of the biggest and best would come from the entire empire for the chance."

"I can just imagine some of the fights that might break out among those potential suitors," Axe replied, shuddering slightly. He had seen several open flights devolve into vicious fights as mecha competed for the opportunity. "If Titan's anywhere on the planet contacting his personal comm would get his attention. Titanus does seem like a very nice mech; he'd have public files you can look at, or you could call him and talk to him for a bit. I have to wonder if his teleporting is inheritable..." Axe contemplated that thought for a moment, then shrugged. "Both Shogun and Vanguard would also make excellent sires."

"Agreed on all counts," Dai Atlas murmured. "I did try Titan's comm a couple orns ago. No answer, but no real surprise. He didn't spend much more time on Cybertron than we did. He's still an officer, so I sent a message asking him to contact me, but it could be centuries. I doubt I can wait that long."

"That is true." Axe frowned thoughtfully, resting his helm against Dai Atlas' shoulder as his hand migrated to Wing's half-spread wing. "Even if he does answer, he would have to undergo the surgery to remove his inhibitor. His is an add-on like yours was, so it should be removable."

"Assuming he's willing, and either the Prime agrees, or he agrees to lie about it," he nodded.

"I can't see why he wouldn't be willing, either to help you or lie through his dentas to the rest of Cybertron about it," Axe pointed out.

A low, wordless grumble escaped Dai Atlas before he sighed. "I'm just being pessimistic. Almost losing you, not being able to kindle with you, protocols that just won't shut up."

Axe tilted his helm, rubbing his cheek against his mate's. "I know, love. But you didn't lose me; I'm still here and have no intentions of leaving." He pressed a kiss to Dai Atlas' cheek, purring softly as his mate turned his helm for a full kiss.

"I didn't lose you," he agreed, his long, wide wings trembling faintly. "I've never felt this out of control in my entire existence. I don't like it."

"It's a very weird feeling." Axe nodded. "But it's one we're going to have to get used to, even though we hate it." He looked down as Wing stirred, nuzzling into Dai Atlas' armor and resettling with a content purr.

"I hope after one it will calm down," Dai Atlas murmured. "If not, at least we'll have longer to research who to ask next time."

The black and gold mech nodded. "True."

"Do you want to be part of the choosing?" he asked softly, internally conflicted about it himself.

The black and gold mech considered. "I would like to be there when you speak with them and I will give you my opinion, but ultimately the choice is yours."

Dai Atlas kissed him, slowly, firmly and with all the possessive love in his spark. "I will always listen to your opinion. It may be their spark that kindles the new life, but it's your frame that will provide the rest of the coding with me."

Axe returned the kiss just as possessively. "I look forward to it, and I will give you my honest opinions."

"Good. This is your sparkling too," he rumbled, leaning closer as his field reached out with the very distinct growl of arousal. ~Want you. Want this new life to be with you.~

Axe took a moment to very gently dislodge Wing from his mate's plating, settling the small jet on the rim of the pool before returning his attention to Dai Atlas. His field meshed with the taller mech's, returning the arousal. ~As do I.~

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A flash of blue, a moment of disorientation, optics seeing nothing, then another flash, and reality returned as Titanus touched down on the balcony at the coordinates he'd been given. Long used to the effects of his teleportation, the big white and gray mech shrugged it off easily, walking over to the balcony doors and politely knocking for entrance.

Titanus had been teleporting supplies to and from the Citadel of Light for centuries, but his last trip, carrying a load of medical supplies and some specialty items needed in the Citadel's foundries, had been a surprising one. Two large mechs, nearly as big as he himself was, had been waiting for him. They had asked him to meet them at the coordinates outside the Citadel. Curious and intrigued, Titanus had agreed, and they had given him the coordinates for this apartment in Iacon.

"Thank you for coming," the larger of the pair, an obvious flier with wide white and blue wings, opened the door and stepped aside for him to enter. "We brought good energon, if you would like. Teleporting must be draining."

"Yes, thank you. Teleporting is draining, more so than most think," Titanus agreed, stepping inside. "The farther I have to go, or if I have to teleport multiple times in rapid succession, the worse the energy drain." Folding down his own wings to take up less space, he nodded to the black and gold mech.

"I'm Axe," the black and gold introduced himself and offered a cube of good jet high grade. "My mate's Dai Atlas. We did meet before, a few metacycles ago when you were dropping off medical supplies. You startled the little white jet off his shoulder."

"I remember." The teleporter nodded. "I saw you grab him before he hit the floor. That was a nice catch." Accepting the cube, Titanus inclined his helm to both mecha before taking a sip. Shifting his weight slightly, he looked from one to the other, body language and field expressing his curiosity.

"That shipment included the parts to rebuild my carrier systems," Dai Atlas explained as they settled in the living room. "Unfortunately, the repairs to Axe's systems did not go so well. I can carry, but I can not kindle with my mate. We're looking for a mecha willing to create a new spark with me, and leave afterwards."

Titanus' wings fanned out in startled surprise. Lowering his cube, he held it between his hands as he digested that. "And you chose me as a potential sire?"

"On the short list." Dai Atlas nodded seriously. "You're a large mech with a large, strong spark. According to your files you are likely to produce a large, strong newspark with me. Your files put you as my second choice, but files never cover the important things. Like who you _are_."

"I'm honored that you'd consider me." Titanus folded his wings back down, settling himself comfortably. "I can see why you would want to meet with me. It gives you the chance to learn things that are not in my files." He nodded.

Dai Atlas smiled faintly and settled back with his own cube of high grade, Strength of Conviction's gem glittering over his shoulder. "Like whether your ability to teleport is a spark gift or not."

"It is." The teleporter nodded. "So there is a good chance any sparkling of mine could inherit it. Fortunately, it doesn't fully manifest as a usable ability until the sparkling is in its youngling frame, so there's no chance of a newly separated sparkling teleporting by accident."

"That's good to know." Axe shivered faintly at the thought even as he realized it was overflow across the bond.

"Do you have any other spark-traits that are likely?" Dai Atlas asked as he pulled himself together. "Any history of triple changers?"

"My carrier's carrier was a triple changer, so it does run in the family. I myself only have one alt mode," Titanus answered. "I'm not aware of any other spark-traits I might have. Teleportation is the major one."

"So with both of us being triples, the odds are very high," Dai Atlas smiled, pleased. "Do you have any creations that _aren't_ recorded?"

Titanus shook his helm. "I have no creations, recorded or unrecorded. If you do choose me to sire your sparkling, the newspark will be my first."

"Then you don't have experience with a contract kindling," Dai Atlas assessed. "It's rather different than a normal out-of-bond kindling."

The white and gray mech's audial antennae twitched. "I have heard of the concept in passing, but no, I have no personal experience with it." He leaned forward, tilting his antenna in Dai Atlas' direction.

"In principle, it is a simple thing. In practice, it can be as complicated as the mecha involved." The blue mech settled again. "A contract is written, signed and filed. The sire gives up any and all claim to the newspark that may or may not come of the interfacing. Legally, socially, your only part in this is to interface with me with the intent to kindle. Those are the basics. As with any contract, it is modified based on what the parties wish."

Titanus considered that. "If the newspark does develop the ability to teleport, it will need to be trained. Only another teleporter can properly provide that training. Other than that, I can't think of any other modifications that would be required."

Dai Atlas inclined his helm. "We know how to find you. If it does require training, it should not be an issue to contact you for that. You are within your rights to request a fee."

The teleporter shook his helm. "I see no need for a fee. Knowing that my offspring will be well cared for will be more than enough."

"It will be." Axe smiled and snuggled into his mate's side. "We haven't failed once in twelve times."

Titanus smiled. "Then I agree to this, if you do end up choosing me. I will sign a contract."

With a smile, Dai Atlas lifted his cube. "Tell me about yourself, the things that aren't in the file. Why should I choose you?"

Titanus sat back, crossing one leg over the other. "I was kindled in Polyhex to a small merchant family. That's how I got into couriering once my ability manifested. I enjoy the traveling about and meeting new mecha. Rare as teleporting is, I had to duck many attempts by Nova to draft me into the military." The flier made a face. "He finally gave up once he figured out that he can't draft what he can't catch. In my downtime I'm something of a historian and scholar. My preference is to avoid conflict whenever possible."

Dai Atlas suddenly burst out laughing. "That was you? I really should have guessed. You have no idea the joors of entertainment I got listening to Nova rant about you, though he never used your designation. But yes, it almost had to be. A shuttle-class teleporter. You're probably the only one."

The teleporter grinned. "No one has yet to figure out how to stop me from teleporting into or out of an area, so I managed to stay one jump ahead of him. And yes, I'm the only shuttle-class teleporter. The others are smaller frametypes, and almost all of them were drafted for military supply, ambushing, or assassination. Eventually I started leaving prankish booby traps for his MEs when they tried to track me down."

"Mech has a sense of humor too," Axe grinned, snickering as he pulled up some of those reports. "You made for some _priceless_ footage for the front. It's fun to watch the MEs get their paint messed up. Though I have to admit, they weren't any of the _smart_ hunters. He needed all of them out with us. A few of us do know ways to disable teleporters for interrogation."

"Then I'm glad I never met any," Titanus replied. "I much prefer moving cargo across Cybertron, the moon bases, and the orbital stations. As I said, I prefer to avoid conflicts if I can. If I do find myself cornered, I will fight, but only to defend myself."

"You do know the Knights well enough to realize that this creation will be trained to fight, and is very likely to fight every few centuries? We do not back down from defending what little we claim as ours," Dai Atlas said seriously. "As we are both former military, we are likely to raise this creation much as we did the others."

Titanus nodded. "I've been the preferred courier for the Citadel for centuries since I can come and go without much fuss, and no one can intercept me on the way. I'm well aware of how they operate. If I'm there while the Knights are engaged with a raider group, they occasionally ask me to help bring in the wounded. I can fight, and I will if I have to. It's just not something I prefer doing."

Dai Atlas nodded. "We have come to prefer that as well, even if we're unlikely to ever lose the military mindset completely. It's why we left Nova's service."

"Does your sparkline have any incidence of violent insanity?" Axe asked quietly, almost pleading for the truth. "We know it officially does not, but..."

Titanus frowned thoughtfully, thinking back along his lineage, the other mecha in his sparkline. "Not that I'm aware of. My sparkline usually produces fairly well-balanced individuals."

"A good thing." Dai Atlas relaxed slightly. "Axe was sparked and my history lost a long time ago. Stacking the odds in the favor of the sparkling being balanced is important. It's the primary strike against the mecha I favor overall. His temperament is worse than mine, and his gift that of natural violence. I'd prefer to have one that does not struggle to keep their temper in check."

"Especially considering what the newspark might inherit." Titanus nodded his understanding.

The conversation continued for the better part of a joor, with Dai Atlas and Axe asking questions and Titanus answering. The answers he gave helped to establish him as a fairly mellow mecha of stable lineage. He would make good sire material to balance out the fire and violence that Dai Atlas would bring.

The three mecha were so involved in the conversations that no one noticed the rising sound of large jet engines approaching. What finally got their attention was a shadow crossing the balcony doors, indicating someone coming in to land.

Titanus turned, blinking at the silhouette visible through the doors. "Were you expecting other company?"

"Not specifically," Dai Atlas pinged his ID to the incoming mecha, warning that there were mecha inside and they were friendlies. "It's probably the owner of this apartment."

The silhouette paused, the wings flicking up in clear surprise before the mecha finally entered. As tall as Dai Atlas was, silver and purple with red optics and clearly a triple changer, the mech looked over the group before his optics settled onto Dai Atlas.

"I think this is about the last place I would have expected to see you, Little Blue," Titanium commented by way of greeting, grinning and walking over, extending his hand. "It's good to see you again, my friend."

Axe snickered at the old nic, one that pre-dated him by several Primes.

"I really _hate_ that designation," Dai Atlas groused even as he stood and took his mentor's hand before pulling him in for a hug. "Did you get a chance to listen to any of my messages?"

The older mech's grin widened. "And you're stuck with it for the rest of your existence." He returned the hug, letting out a soft rumble. "Not any of the more recent ones. I just got back on-planet; my unit's been hunting pirates in the more distant reaches of Cybertronian territory. I did get most of them, though... I was glad to hear you'd managed to escape Nova, and you've found a new lifestyle that suits you. I've encountered Knights before, but it's been a very long time." Red optics turned to Axe. "Long time no see, Axe. Managing to keep this old troublemaker in line?"

Titanus watched with curious interest. The newcomer was clearly a very old mech, his whole bearing announcing to the universe that he was military. Shifting slightly, the teleporter waited and watched.

"With help." Axe grinned back and sprawled with the ease of being even more comfortable with Titanium there. "Did you get to the ones about Wing?"

"I did get those messages. Is he keeping you on your toes?" The big mech subspaced the swords he carried, settling onto one of the chairs and stretching his legs out in front of him while Dai Atlas settled next to his mate once more.

"He's making us soft," Dai Atlas snorted. "Little mech is _such_ a snuggler. And the last two I sent, about having a sparkling?"

Titanium's optic rims went up. "Those messages I haven't gotten to yet. I haven't gotten the chance to check my messages for a while. You had your inhibitor removed, then?"

"Yes, and my systems rebuilt." He motioned to his noticeable larger abdominal area. "Though it shouldn't surprise you to find out that the same couldn't be done for Axe. Thus the interview." He nodded to the youngest mech in the room. "Titanus is on my short list of potential sires. As are you." He turned to Titanus. "This is Titanium, my mentor and that top choice I mentioned earlier."

"Not surprised at all." The elder shook his helm. "Slagging techs were thorough when building in those inhibitors and ensuring that the systems couldn't be installed." He looked over at Titanus curiously.

"Titanus, courier and teleporter, the same teleporter who gave Nova Prime fits until he gave up trying to catch me." The gray and white mech nodded politely.

Titanium chuckled. "Those rants were the source of much amusement. My compliments on ducking Nova for as long as you did." His attention returned to Dai Atlas. "I'm surprised and honored that you would consider me. Though I too have an inhibitor."

"And you are even older than I am," Dai Atlas pointed out. "Hardwing has agreed to remove it, and put it back if you wish. After the work on me he's reasonably confident it will be the work of a few joors and less in recovery, since you don't require the multi-system rebuild I did. Though I haven't chosen yet."

Titanium considered that for a long moment, then nodded. "I'm on leave time now, so if I vanish for a while no one will be overly suspicious. Let me know when you do make your choice, and then I'll see about getting my inhibitor removed."

Dai Atlas inclined his helm in thanks. ~Do you have any questions for Titanus?~

~No, I think I have a good read on him for what matters.~ The black and gold mech kissed his mate's cheek.

"Then thank you for coming, Titanus," Dai Atlas said as he stood. "I intend to choose within the decaorn."

The younger, taller mech nodded, putting aside his empty cube and rising to his pedes. "It's an honor to be considered, Dai Atlas." Turning slightly, Titanus nodded to Titanium. "It was good to meet you."

"Likewise." Titanium returned the nod with a warm smile, watching as Dai Atlas saw the courier off, then returned to the living room and his mate.

"So what is the military like under Sentinel?" Dai Atlas asked.

"It's certainly different than it was under Nova," the older mech answered. "We're not taking any new territory, merely holding what we already have. There're fewer large-scale actions. A few smaller groups, like mine, have been dispatched to deal with the pirates that have been raiding along the edges of our space."

Dai Atlas nodded, and Axe felt something unpleasant stir across the bond, nervous and determined all at once. "Mentor," he used the title that hadn't been bothered with after the first few vorns. "What was I before I was reformatted?"

The silver and purple mech regarded his former charge silently for a long moment. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised that you know about that... The medic who removed your inhibitor would have noticed your spark chamber." He vented heavily. "You were either orphaned or abandoned... Which, I'm not sure. Because of that gift of yours, you were training for the priesthood. But whoever ran the military at the time saw a weapon in that power, and you were abducted just before your final adult upgrade."

Dark red optics closed as Dai Atlas struggled to center himself for a long, silent moment.

"Why didn't you tell me, when I was still young enough to buy out?" he eventually asked in a very small voice, too deep in shock to be angry yet. It was coming though, and all three knew that was a storm that could destroy worlds if he lost focus on his oaths as a Knight of Light.

"They wanted to use your power as a weapon, and if you'd tried to leave they'd either have reformatted you again or destroyed you, to ensure that your gift could never be used against them," Titanium answered. "It took me a while to connect the dots, and I myself was under intense scrutiny and the threat of reformatting at the time. I couldn't."

"Are any of the mecha who knew me before still functioning?" He struggled to keep the erratic surges of emotions under control. "Or at least the designation I had then?"

"Your designation was Dei Kanal. And I'm really not sure if any of them yet survive. Most of the priests you were training with were already older mechs when you were taken, and you had no other family that I was ever aware of." Armored shoulders rose in a helpless shrug as Dai Atlas nodded his acceptance.

"A search for me to continue, then," his wings shivered as he managed to control his reactions. "You have given me far more than I knew before."

"Thank you for that," Axe added quietly, even more disturbed than he had been before. "I didn't realize the military did things like that so far back."

"Some things don't change." Dai Atlas leaned against him, drawing him close. "Some Primes were more assertive than others about the rules for recruiting, but it probably always happened. I knew it happened when I was young. I just never thought I was one of them. I truly did like my existence for a long time."

"It was a particularly ruthless General who ordered it, and that particular piece of gutter slag met with an unfortunately fatal accident a couple millennia later." Titanium's red optics glittered, cold and hard. They softened as the elder mech's gaze shifted back to Dai Atlas. "I am sorry that I could not tell you before."

Slowly, Dai Atlas nodded. "I ... am not entirely sure I would have been ready to hear until recently," he admitted. "I remember being happy, _enjoying_ my function for the most part, until half way through Nova's reign."

"You did enjoy it, until Nova started going too far." Titanium got to his pedes, carefully placing a hand on Dai Atlas' shoulder. "It was a life you were well suited for."

"That is how I remember it too," Axe snuggled against his mate, grateful beyond words that Titanium had returned when he did with the knowledge he did. Like any good mentor, the relationship never truly ended, and Dai Atlas had precious few to lean on as a General.

"Thank you," Dai Atlas managed to say, trying to express his own gratitude in his field as it brushed against the long-familiar one. How much his mentor's approval meant to him. How much knowing he wasn't deluding himself meant. How much Titanium's support meant.

Titanium stepped closer, resting his forehelm against Dai Atlas' in an old, affectionate gesture. His field melded with the blue mech's, expressing just how proud Titanium was of his student. "You are welcome."

With a smile Dai Atlas relaxed, relieved and settled inside himself in a way he hadn't been since he'd been told he'd been kindled.

"High grade?" Titanium offered as he straightened.

"Yes," Axe answered for his mate. "I think that would be good. No more getting plastered for us, but a second cube tonight won't hurt."

"Agreed," Dai Atlas leaned back on the couch. "How has your existence been going?"

"Few new scars, the usual assortment of creaks and groans from old joints," the older mech answered, walking into the kitchen area to retrieve three cubes of high grade. "I'm actually rather glad that long battles are becoming fewer. I do need at least a little time to recuperate between major fights." He passed a cube to Dai Atlas, then one to Axe, before settling down with the third. "How is existence as Knights?"

"Still strange in some ways, but Vanguard's a good CO," Dai Atlas relaxed with the cube cradled in his hands and sipped the quality brew, savoring every drop. "Though I'm beginning to think that the worst of my difficulties adapting are from forgotten protocols trying to reassert themselves, like the kindling ones. The whole 'don't kill unless you have to' is an odd one to get used to, especially their definition of what that actually means."

"Understandable." Titanium nodded. He tilted his cube at Dai Atlas. "You spent almost all your existence in situations where letting an opponent live wasn't an option. I'm not surprised it takes some getting used to. And you're not used to having all those non-combat protocols cluttering up your attention queue, so of course adapting to them wouldn't be easy."

"Too true," Axe agreed from where he was snuggled against his mate's side. "At least I know what and when mine were added and what they all do. It's not so simple when they are turning on instead of being installed."

"Do you hear much about the civil war that's building?" Dai Atlas asked, treating his theory as if it was fact.

The purple and silver triple changer eyed Dai Atlas for a moment. "There have been rumors flying around for centuries. But rumors have a tendency to become more and more exaggerated the more they're told. Most of the military forces are aware that there is discontent stirring in the depths of the cities."

"In my estimation, it's more than discontent and it's with good cause," Dai Atlas rumbled. "We spent six centuries traveling Cybertron as part of our training as Knights. The trouble starts only a couple levels down even in Iacon. Sentinel might just turn it around, but my tactical processors say it's only waiting on a leader as a catalyst."

"I didn't think things were that bad. But then, I haven't been in the lower levels for a very long time. Very few times since I finally decided to get out of Kaon's arenas." Titanium took a sip of his cube, contemplating this new information.

Axe perked up a bit. "Speaking of Kaon, what _was_ that thing on the floor of your apartment in Kaon? Both of us were wondering about that, and neither of us could figure out what it was or where it came from."

"That?" The ancient triple changer chuckled. "That was a transorganic. A beast from right here on Cybertron, originating before our race even really began. I fought some in the arenas, and after I got out I helped hunt them. That one has been dead longer than either of you has been alive. They were rare by the time Dai was kindled, and by the time you were sparked, Axe, they were almost completely extinct."

Dai Atlas hummed. "I should not be surprised we'd do that on our homeworld, given what we did for so long on the worlds we conquered," he admitted with a flicker of unease.

"Transorganics were monsters, experiments, created to hunt us," the older mech stated flatly. "Relics from a time when our whole race was enslaved. Destroying them was all that could be done with the things." Gold-trimmed purple and silver armor rippled, then settled.

Axe gave a sound of confusion and even Dai Atlas frowned. "You never told me about _that_."

"It's a time most of Cybertron has completely forgotten about. You won't even find it in the official histories unless you dig into the very oldest records. Both of you are too young to have known about it." Titanium took a long drink of his high-grade. "It was an ugly period in our history."

"That seems to have ended," Dai Atlas assessed. "Given that we are no longer slaves to another race."

"How'd we get rid of them?" Axe asked.

"Violent, open rebellion. It was Cybertron's first war. Millions were killed, since at the time only the military technology lines, which were sold off-world as self-directing weapons, had decent armor. The domestic slave line barely had any armor at all. It was after we threw the disgusting half-organic freaks off Cybertron that our own history truly began." Titanium looked from Axe to Dai Atlas. "We threw them off, but we never destroyed them. They're still out there, somewhere. And I'd bet my spark that they'll be back one orn."

"They must be _very_ far away, if we haven't crossed paths again," Dai Atlas scowled. "Nova, we, ensured the empire is huge."

"Where they went, no one knows." The older triple changer shrugged. "Or we might have seen them. Since only the oldest mecha even recall what they looked like, it's hard to say."

"What _do_ they look like?" Axe prompted.

"How could such a threat be stripped from training?" Dai Atlas wondered, mostly to himself.

Titanium databurst the image of five faces, each more hideous than the last, attached to an ovoid body to both of them. An energy beam kept the creature aloft, and it had an array of clearly organic tentacles. "Why, I don't know. Maybe those who ended up in command figured that after the beating we gave them, they'd never want to face us again. I really have no idea."

"Or it's been so long they figured something else took them out," Axe twitched as his tanks roiled. _Why_ he had such an extreme reaction he had no clue, but knowing what he did of them he wasn't about to question it.

"Well _I_ definitely didn't get any reports on such creatures," Dai Atlas added. "But if there is ever a time for them to come back, it'll be in the middle of a Cybertronian civil war."

"That would be the most logical time for the fraggers to show their hideous faces again." Titanium nodded. "And nobody's gotten a report on them, Dai. I'm old enough to remember; that's why I know of them. They called themselves Quintessons, though we Cybertronians had a lot of other things to call them."

"I don't doubt it," Dai Atlas chuckled darkly, then paused. "Did they create the first of us?"

"They created our _frames_. But not our sparks." A gold-streaked optic rim lifted. "The eventual leaders of Cybertron did not want to admit that our race began as slave goods for another race."

"And may well still be," Dai Atlas muttered, his wings quivering in anger. "They may have lost a factory world, but if they sold Cybertronians off world, they probably had more." He sank down with a huff and shoved it all out of his processors. "Though again, if we haven't found them, they are _far_ from here. You fought against the Quintessons?"

"I was sparked in one of their factories, near the end of their rule. Prima was the Matrix-bearer at the time. Yes, I fought them, their nearly mindless soldiers, and their transorganic pets. As I said, it was an ugly time." Titanium's armor flared and settled, old scars glittering as the lights caught them. "Enough about the distant past. It was a time I don't like thinking about. I'd rather hear about what you've been up to since you left the military, and about the jet you've adopted."

Dai Atlas smiled his understanding. "Have you met Wing?"

The older mech shook his helm. "No, I don't think I have. It's been a long time since I've had much interaction with Knights. I'm not sure how many of them would remember."

"I'm sure he'd _love_ to meet you," Axe grinned. "Another warm frame to snuggle against that makes him feel like a sparkling. It's too adorable for words."

"Main descriptions of him include 'cybercat in mech form,' 'sensuality incarnate' and 'a perpetual sparkling.'" Dai Atlas chuckled. "He's a darling creature."

"He also loves perching on Dai's shoulder, like some of the organic birds we've seen," Axe added. "And he's got Dai here so well-trained when it comes to cuddling that Dai apparently can't recharge without a small mech curled up on his chest."

Titanium laughed. "That does sound adorable." His grin widened at the rest of Axe's comment. "Have any pictures?"

Dai Atlas groaned at his mate's happy chirp of confirmation and the databurst he felt go between them. "No one _really_ objected," he said weakly.

The big purple and silver mech laughed so hard his vents wheezed. "Oh Primus..." He grinned widely at a grumbling, scowling Dai Atlas. "He does indeed have you well-trained."

"It's not like he recharges any better alone," Dai Atlas tried to deflect.

"The best story is the one I _don't_ have pictures for." Axe leaned forward, ignoring his mate's death-glare with manic glee. "Apparently that first time my dear Dai had to recharge alone while I was in training he walked into Wing's room and picked him up like a toy to snuggle with, all without fully booting up."

That set the older mech off again, laughing hard enough he nearly slid off the chair and had to dig his heelplates into the floor to stop himself. "Awww, that's adorable." Sparkling red optics met Dai Atlas' fuming look. "Sounds like this little jet has managed to uncover your well-hidden softer side."

"He's _good_ at that," the big mech huffed. "Just be careful when you visit. He'll do it to you too. Ruin that tough-mech rep you have."

"I got that reputation on the battlefield, and I would not mind having it ruined, actually," Titanium replied, hoisting himself back into the chair and settling his wings into a relaxed position. "I would like to meet Wing."

"If you know where the Citadel is, you can come by any time," Dai Atlas offered. "I'll vouch for you."

Titanium nodded. "I know where it is, and I will come visit."

"We look forward to it," Dai Atlas nodded. "Wing will be all flutter-mech over it. He has _no_ shame and proud of it, but he's a pit of a good fighter. Nothing compared to the more senior Knights, but he's _good_."

"Wing sounds like a very interesting mech to get to know. It will be an interesting meeting." Picking up his cube of high-grade, the ancient warrior took a sip, finishing it. "I look forward to meeting him."

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Two orns after Dai Atlas and Axe returned to the Citadel following their interview with Titanus and catching up with Titanium, Dai Atlas' comm beeped. The older purple and silver triple changer was on his way to the Citadel, calling ahead to let them know. Dai Atlas went to inform Vanguard, who was wary but allowed Titanium to enter as long as he surrendered his energy weapons while he was staying in the Citadel. It was Dai Atlas' right as a Knight to vouch for any visitor he wished to invite inside. The price of inviting an unruly guest, the Knight had to suffer their punishments, was high enough to keep things civilized.

Wing was perched on his larger creator's shoulder, almost vibrating with curiosity as he waited for the Citadel's main gates to open. He was looking forward to meeting the mech he had seen in Dai Atlas' images files so many vorns ago, and had heard about on many more occasions, the swordsmech who had trained his creator. From what he'd heard, the mech called Titanium was gifted with violence and could be more than a little fuel-thirsty when on the field of battle, as well as possessing an occasionally wicked temper.

Other Knights gathered at a distance, murmuring to each other. Vanguard eased through the crowd, advancing to stand next to Dai Atlas. Burgundy wings shifted as the Seeker's white optics fixed on the opening gates. Surprisingly, tense wings relaxed slightly as the Sovereign spotted purple and silver armor.

Red optics swept the crowd as Titanium walked inside. He was still carrying twin swords across his back, though he had promised to keep them sheathed unless he was in the sparring arenas. There were several Knights who wanted to test their skills against him.

"Welcome to the Citadel of Light, my friend," Dai Atlas greeted.

"Thank you." The older mech smiled, then tilted his helm toward Vanguard. "Thank you for allowing me to visit."

Vanguard looked the older mech over. "As long as you behave yourself and obey our laws, you are welcome here."

Titanium held up his hands, palms up to show he wasn't looking for trouble. "I'll behave. I have no intention of causing any problems while I'm here."

"Good." Vanguard inclined his helm slightly. His optics landed on the hilts showing over the big triple changer's shoulders. "Perhaps you would give us a demonstration of your skill with blades while you are here? I do not recognize your designation from the records of those who have trained here."

"I'd be glad to spar with anyone who wishes to test their skills against me. I never trained here. My skills were learned in other manners." The ancient warrior turned his attention to Dai Atlas and the white shape on the blue mech's shoulder, leaning forward almost to the point of losing his balance. "And you must be Wing. Your creators have told me much about you."

"All good, I hope," Wing chirped, gold optics bright as he looked Titanium over. The purple and silver mech matched Dai Atlas' height, though Dai Atlas' helm crest and his back kibble made him look larger. Titanium was slightly slimmer of build and carried his wings spread out behind his shoulders like a Seeker or a shuttleformer rather than folded down the way Wing did. Old scars were faintly visible against rich purple and shining silver plating, and his red optics were calm and level. Some kind of golden synthetic fiber flowed out from under the purple helmet, flowing loose over powerful shoulders and around the hilts of the swords Titanium carried.

"The good, the interesting, and the cute," Titanium replied, giving the little white jet a warm smile. "I'm pretty sure I know what you've been told about me, and I assure you I do not bite."

Wing debated for a moment, then hopped from Dai Atlas' shoulder to Titanium's. The older mech held still as he was thoroughly inspected, Wing poking curiously at one swordhilt before playing with a few strands of that synthetic fiber. His field brushed curiously against the much older mech's, feeling the aura of _age_ the big mech carried that far exceeded even Dai Atlas'. That field was calmer and more relaxed than Wing had expected. Gold optics turned toward Dai Atlas. "He doesn't _feel_ like a violent mech."

Titanium chuckled. "That's because I'm not. Not by nature, at least. Because of my past, what I was sparked as, violence and fuel-thirst was trained into me, not sparked with me. I can be violent if I have to be. If I don't have to be, I'm fairly mellow. Relatively speaking. Dai knew me mostly in battlefield settings, so he didn't get much of a chance to see my not-so-violent side." He tilted his helm slightly. "Be careful how hard you tug on that. It is attached."

Dai Atlas snorted. "You never complained when I yanked on it."

"Because you never listened to me grumbling about it," the older mech retorted.

Hardwing stalked over, eying the large purple and silver triple. "So you're Titanium, hm? Dai Atlas tells me that you have an inhibitor that needs removing, should you be his choice."

"You must be the medic." Titanium nodded. "Yes, I do."

Hardwing grunted. "I'll keep a berth ready for you."

Axe chuckled, reaching over to swat Titanium's arm. "C'mon. We'll show you around, and show you the quarters you've been assigned for your stay."

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During his stay in the Citadel, Titanium proved that he was, as he'd said, much more relaxed and laid-back than he had been in a battlefield setting. He sparred with several Knights, showing his skills and differing techniques. Surprisingly enough, he was also often found in the main courtyard, an audience of younglings and adult mechs in attendance, all listening intently as he told them stories of mecha, places, and events that modern Cybertron had all but forgotten. The old mech could keep his audience riveted for joors on end. Wing would actually climb up onto his shoulders and listen from there.

When the time came to remove Titanium's inhibitor, Hardwing took one look into the big mech's chest cavity and announced that Titanium was without a doubt the oldest mech he'd ever worked on. Though he had to compliment the ancient warrior for keeping himself in such good condition. Despite his great age, Titanium had yet to lose any of his strength or speed. His protoform was seamed with old scars, the welds gleaming against the duller protoform.

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Dai Atlas surveyed the small gathering with a touch of pride. Even the mech who didn't know him had come on his invitation. Titanium and Titanus were no surprise; they'd already agreed to sire, even if they hadn't originally agreed to compete. Vanguard and Shogun lived in the Citadel and while Shogun was in a notoriously open relationship for pleasure, he was bonded with a youngling. Dai Atlas wasn't sure he even wanted to know what kind of conversation had happened with Vanguard's trine-mates, but the Sovereign had agreed with a warm smile and wing-flicker of pride. Skyfire was the real surprise, though. So far from home and they'd never met. Dai Atlas simply liked his looks, intelligence and the intergalactic shuttle had a superior temperament by all accounts. No matter who ended up catching him, the sparkling would have an exceptional sire and every advantage Dai Atlas could provide.

The five mecha were stretching their wings and flexing their flaps and control surfaces. Turbines and jet engines hummed and revved loudly as they warmed up. They were all looking each other in the process, sizing up the competition.

Hardwing had insisted on dragging in all five for a thorough checkup, making sure they were all in peak shape for the flight. The CMO was watching as the quintet fueled and warmed up.

Titanus' engines revved, propelling the teleporter in a series of short hops as he warmed up, reaching back to dislodge a bit of debris that had gotten lodged in one of his heel turbines. Tailfins and wings flared and wiggled, checking mobility. Not far away, Titanium hovered briefly before setting down. Shogun made a quick adjustment to one of his tailfins.

Preparations over, the five settled into a loose line, optics on Dai Atlas.

"Remember, no causing harm," Dai Atlas reminded, a rule put in place and mostly directed at Titanium and Vanguard, though it applied to them all, including himself. Once he was caught, he was caught. In that rule he agreed not to fight whoever caught him, something he would never have accepted in a true open flight. But here, with it by invitation only, he knew that no matter who it was, it was an acceptable sire.

Various wing twitches acknowledge that all understood.

With a deep intake of air, a final check that the bond with Axe was as closed as it could be and Dai Atlas took off. Straight up, showing off the power of his engines as he made the middle atmosphere before his pursuers could even register the motion enough to take off themselves. His wings flared, wide and strong, cutting through the air in a strange sort of freedom. His final flight as a ... before he became a carrier.

Engines howled behind him, five mecha taking off in a tight group. All optics were fixed on the blue dot that was their quarry. For a long moment they remained in a close clump before spreading out, weaving and darting around each other, jostling for position. Shogun sideslipped, sneaking between Skyfire and Titanium, only to pull up as Vanguard shot ahead of him.

The Seeker had the advantage of speed on all of them, being built for high-speed combat and with the highest thrust to mass ratio of any of them. Yet he also faced the disadvantage of that smaller, high-performance frame; if the chase dragged on he would be out-paced by the larger mecha with their far higher fuel loads. No one was taking his presence lightly however. An old, fighting-fit Seeker was a Seeker who'd chased many a mate through the sky and no one was willing to ignore the fact that he'd won more than a few open flights over Vos in his youth.

A flicker of blue marked a jump on Titanus' part, the teleporter deftly avoiding getting caught in the pack by teleporting out of the way. He'd agreed beforehand to not cheat by teleporting ahead, but avoiding colliding with the others was permitted. Titanus reappeared off to the side and slightly ahead, and four engines revved as the others closed the distance.

On the ground, a crowd had gathered. All the other airframe Knights stood in a cluster, murmuring in amazement, watching six dots vanishing into the sky. They were all receiving the broadcasts by Vanguard's trine-mates, who were recording the event for the records and for anyone who was interested to watch later on, but there was something about seeing it with one's own optics that made it special to watch the dots dart and dance in pursuit of the one so far ahead.

Well aware of his limits, Vanguard pressed his engines to catch up well ahead of the others, drawing even with Dai Atlas. They began a twisting dance as Vanguard attempted to match his cockpit to Dai Atlas' chest and Dai Atlas did his best to avoid it without touching the much smaller mech.

Engines screamed as the other four rose to the challenge. They were closing rapidly, all intent on being the one to catch the prize. Titanium scooted sideways a bit, startling Titanus into dumping speed to avoid him, and the teleporter grumbled to himself as he fell behind, forced to work to catch up again. The red ex-cop wove around Skyfire, trying to gain some speed advantage, only for the tables to be turned on him as the scientific pacifist veered into him in a calculated move learned from watching far too many flights, both open and trine.

They all knew that their quarry would give them no better a welcome than Vanguard was currently receiving. They watched as the Seeker was frustrated at every turn, his greater speed and agility not enough to overcome Dai Atlas' experience in the sky.

Shogun sideslipped to avoid Skyfire, losing speed and pushing his engines to catch up again. Taking advantage of the jousting between Skyfire and Shogun, Titanium shot forward, taking the lead. The eldest of the group was the only one who had more flight experience than their quarry did, and all of them knew it. They were keeping a wary optic on the purple and silver triple changer. No one doubted that Dai Atlas favored him, open flight or not.

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Far below the action that was down to Titanium and Titanus, Axe was in Atl's quarters with him and Wing, the smaller Knights doing their best to distract Axe from what was going on with his bonded and mecha that were not Axe. Currently they were playing a game of chance with dice that Axe had to teach them, thus keeping his processor focused on the task. They were betting with energon chips, 150 to a cube. It made for very low actual wagers in line with Knight of Light values, but with the appearance of much higher stakes that Axe had been used to as a command officer.

Wing had draped himself across Axe's lap, one wing flopped open to brush against black plating. Bright golden optics watched every move the black mech made, audial fins flared wide with interest. There were quite a few games played in the Citadel, but this one was new to him. Axe had laughingly reminded him what games of chance were founded upon as they were all betting games.

That laugh was worth any amount of grief the orn might bring for Wing.

"These games suit Wing," Atl teased. "He's a magnet to good luck."

Wing's wings fluttered, the tips brushing lightly against Axe's armor. "Not like I can help it. I'm just good at games." Tilting his helm, he grinned up at his current perch. "When playing team games, everyone always wants to be on my team."

"You don't think that's just because of your charming personality?" Axe snickered, moving his hand to stroke the wing still folded along Wing's back.

"It could be that, too." Wing purred contentedly at the petting, leaning into Axe's hand. It took a poke from Atl to remind Wing that it was his turn, but even as he reached for the dice he froze when he felt Axe's field flare sharply in an unsettling mixture of arousal, emotional pain and anger and the hand against his wing tightened into the air.

Gold optics widened, then Wing turned his helm to look up at Axe, aware that something had come through the bond the black and gold mech shared with Dai Atlas. "What's wrong?" A slender wing twitched uncertainly, the one that had been sprawled open across Axe's armor trembling before slowly folding tightly to Wing's back.

"The ... chase is over," Axe ground out, his frame trembling faintly.

"Dai's been caught," Wing murmured. He debated for a moment, noting just how still Atl was holding himself. "Who caught him?"

Axe huffed and drew in more air before responding. "Big, dark ... probably Titanium," he murmured, trying to avoid feeling too much of his mate's spark merge and freefall.

Wing leaned closer to Axe's torso. "I like Titanium," he murmured softly, then shifted slightly, resting his helm against Axe's plating. His wings squirmed against his back, one stretching up to tap against Axe's hand. It obediently began to stroke the demanding wing.

"I do too, as does Dai," Axe gathered himself. "He's a good mech, with a strong spark. He'll make a good sire, any of the ones invited to would. Doesn't make it hurt any less that I can't even _try_ to win my own mate."

The small white jet chirred softly, curling into Axe's lap to press against warm black plating. Not knowing what to say to that, he pressed close and purred, the edges of his field entwining with Axe's, trying to sooth the distressed mech. Axe's reply was to welcome the contact, leaning on Wing's strength to sustain him through the long moments of ever-intensifying pleasure from the other side of the bond.

Axe was panting, tiny licks of energy dancing across his frame when Dai Atlas' overload finally broke and washed through him unresisted.

Wing nuzzled into black armor, pressing closer. He quivered slightly as darts of energy leaped off onto his own armor. Axe's field washed over the little jet, causing white plating to flare slightly. He stayed where he was, pressing against his creator's armor, purring loudly.

"I am willing to help you with that, if you wish," Atl offered, uncertain if it was a welcome offer.

Axe shook his helm. "Thank you, but no. I'll wait until my mate is finished, then go to him." He shifted slightly, resuming his petting of slender white wings, much to Wing's delight.

"Then spar?" Atl suggested. "Strenuous physical activity would do you some good."

The black and gold triple changer considered for a moment, then nodded. "A good spar will help." He reluctantly shooed Wing off his lap, petting the white and red helm as Wing oozed off onto the couch next to him.

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More than two joors later a red line decorated Axe was standing at the door to his quarters. Distracted as he was, Atl had mopped the floor with him, literally a couple of times, but it had done what he needed. Much of his charge was burned off. Red-streaked plating quivered for a moment, then Axe palmed open the door and stepped inside. Crossing the living area, he walked into the berthroom, stopping in the doorway to survey the scene inside.

His mate was sprawled on his back on the berth, wings flared wide for balance for what had come before he'd dropped into stasis. Though his chest plates were closed, the paint transfers on them and everywhere else spoke of the multiple merges that Axe had felt. The _obvious_ sign of what had happened was Dai Atlas' bared valve, still dripping transfluid and lubricant, and the large purple and silver triple changer that was collapsed on Dai Atlas' far side.

Titanium had managed to scoot a slight distance away before settling, clearly having expected Axe to show up. His paint bore clear streaks of blue and black, and the golden synthetic fibers of his mane, emerging from under the back of his helmet, formed a shining puddle around his helm and shoulders. One red optic flickered dimly as he registered Axe's presence, then darkened again as the older mech settled back into a light recharge, trying to get back enough strength to move.

Blue optics regarded the silver and purple lump for a moment, then Axe crossed the room to settle next to Dai Atlas, gliding his fingertips lightly over blue armor. Despite the intense exhaustion in Dai Atlas' frame, he roused himself enough to leaned into the bond with _love-regret-thanks-snuggle_.

Axe rumbled very softly, curling into Dai Atlas' side and resting his helm on his mate's shoulder. Reaching through the bond, he replied with _reassurance-love-__**mine**_. Light fingertips stroked over the seams of Dai Atlas' chest armor before stilling, a warm palm pressing against purple-streaked black.

_Yours_ Dai Atlas' emotions flowed back, even firmer than Axe's claim. ~Take me?~ he asked with the flickering of awareness that meant his frame was going to shut down and recharge whether he wanted to or not.

The black and gold mech's thoughts hinted that, once his larger mate was conscious again, Axe was going to stake his own claim and do it properly. Purring, Axe watched Dai Atlas settle into recharge, then settled over his mate's frame, releasing his own aching spike and sliding it into Dai Atlas' well-used valve. Even in recharge, he could feel the welcome, the subtle shifts in his mate's position to accommodate him.

As wound up as he was, it didn't take long for Axe to reach his overload, flooding his mate's valve with his own transfluid. Charge crackled over his plating, leaping off onto Dai Atlas' armor. Bracing himself. Axe continued to thrust, driving himself to a second overload that came almost as quickly.

He was sprawled on top of his mate in exhausted recharge, his spike still buried in Dai Atlas, when Red optics warmed up as Titanium clawed his way back to awareness several joors later. Cycling his optics to clear them and slowly sitting up, he looked over at Dai Atlas, noting Axe's presence atop the blue mech. Chuckling softly, the old warrior peeled himself off the berth, stretching carefully before rising to his pedes.

The interfacing had been intense, the merges processor-blowing. Titanium was fairly certain the kindling had been successful, but he would be remaining in the Citadel for a few more orns, just in case his services were required again.

The old mech looked at the bonded mates for a long moment, smiling softly. He hoped that one orn he'd finally have a mate like that, though he didn't think it too likely, considering his age. Ruffling his armor, Titanium decided to leave the pair alone, padding out of the berthroom and heading for the washracks. His own berth here in the Citadel guest quarters would be better than intruding on the bonded pair further.

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Joors later, Axe's limbs twitched as the black and gold mech began to boot up. Blue optics flickered and came online, the big mech blearily raising his helm. It took him a moment to realize that he was still on top of his mate and slowly pushed himself off to lie next to Dai Atlas. The large purple and silver mech who'd been there when Axe had fallen into recharge was gone, having left sometime during the night.

Settling down again, Axe ran his fingers over Dai Atlas' chest, tracing the seams of the armor plates. Those wouldn't open for him again until the new spark was firmly settled in its frame, and quite possibly not until after Dai Atlas recovered from the separation.

He'd miss it dearly, but their bond would remain open and he'd always have that.

Even with Dai Atlas deep in recharge, his systems responded to the touch with a flicker of desire and pulse of warmth along the bond. Axe responded with a pulse of warmth and love of his own along the bond, continuing to lightly trace the armor seams. His fingers skimmed lightly over a streak of purple, and the black Knight made a slight face at it.

It was enough to draw a flicker of _need me?_ across the bond. Dai Atlas wasn't booting up, but he was willing. Axe purred, his intention of reclaiming _his_ mate flowing through the bond. Once Dai Atlas was conscious enough to participate, preferably. It didn't take long for the blue giant to audibly begin to boot up, his optics lighting, dimly, a moment later.

~Love,~ Dai Atlas purred deeply.

~Beloved,~ Axe purred in response. ~_Mine_.~ He leaned over to steal a kiss, fingers wandering up to Dai Atlas' shoulder as the kiss was returned with the passionate fire of wanting it for too long.

~Yours,~ he agreed as he reached up to pull Axe against him and into a deeper kiss. ~_Mine_,~ he growled in reply. ~Get this paint _off_ of me,~ he demanded, the thought including a clear indication of how.

Axe's grin was wicked. ~Gladly, my love.~ Shifting, returning the kiss with equal passion, he settled over his mate's frame, his chestplate scraping lightly against Dai Atlas'. He felt his mate's legs come up, thighs rubbing against his, and the distinctive click of an interface cover sliding open.

~Fill me,~ Dai Atlas moaned into their kiss, his hands roaming over Axe's back. ~This sparkling will _look_ like ours. Black and gold and _strong_ as a tank.~

A shiver ran through Axe's frame as he released his spike, sinking it into his mate's valve with one smooth motion. He didn't even hesitate before he started thrusting; he knew when Dai Atlas was ready to go.

"Yessss," Dai Atlas hissed in pleasure that was as much in his processors as his frame. His hands dug into seams as his legs wrapped around his mate's, locking them together in the familiar passion with an unfamiliar need. Never had this been anything but for pleasure, bonding and release. Now, if all had gone well, it was to influence the coding and frame of the creation Dai Atlas was now nurturing with his spark.

Just the thought of it was enough to make the charge in Dai Atlas' frame spike as he drove his hips up into Axe's thrusts and squeezed his valve walls around the very welcome intruder.

The pace Axe set was hard and fast, pounding into Dai Atlas' valve. Bright blue optics fixed on glowing red. Shifting his weight slightly, Axe braced himself with one hand, the other palm sliding over the wide expanse of a white wing. With the bond wide open, he felt his mate's pleasure, the rush of such finely tuned sensor being stimulated so strongly.

~Yessss. Love you. Want you. Never let this sparkling doubt who its creators are,~ Dai Atlas moaned, nearly pleading. ~Want it to look like you. My wings.~

~Black and gold and a bit of blue,~ Axe purred. ~Want it to look like both of us.~ He glided his fingertips along the leading edge of the wing he was stroking, leaning down to nip at his mate's neck cabling.

Dai Atlas' helm tipped back, offering himself even more fully as his wing pressed into the touch. At the same time Dai Atlas abandoned armor seams to wiggle his fingers into the treads of Axe's tank form that ran down his back.

Axe moaned against his mate's throat, nipping and licking at an energon line. One fingertip located a sensor in the flat plane of Dai Atlas' wing, circling it lightly. Axe's powerful engines revved, vibrating through his frame and into the larger mech's where their armor touched. The slide and roll of hips as they thrust, both seeking to get Axe as deep as possible became a background rhythm to the charge and rush of the touches only an intimate and long-time lover knew.

Soon Dai Atlas was trembling as he held his charge in check, desperately wanting to feel Axe's transfluid rush into him and wash away the other before he gave in.

Blue optics flared brightly as Axe slammed his hips forward, driving his spike in as deep as it could go. The black and gold Knight bellowed his overload, transfluid bursting from his spike, charge dancing and sizzling across his plating, leaping off onto Dai Atlas'. He had only the nanoklik before his transfluid crashed into the thick cluster of nodes at the top of Dai Atlas' valve before the larger mech lost it.

Dai Atlas' frame bowed, taking Axe in even deeper as his valve rippled and squeezed, milking the spike for all it was worth. Deep red optics flared, then darkened as Dai Atlas gripped his mate tightly in the intense bliss of the full-on maelstrom of energy running rampant through every system, feeding the tiny, loose ball of energy that could become a new life in time.

Axe clung just as tightly to his mate's frame, fingers tightening around the leading edge of a wide white wing but being careful not to damage it. His frame trembled, hips bucking against Dai Atlas', dentas closing on an energon line in the blue Knight's neck.

When their frames finally unlocked, settling back down onto the berth, Axe noted with possessive pride that streaks of his black paint had succeeded in covering up some of the purple streaks Titanium had left on Dai Atlas' plating.

Under him and around him, Dai Atlas hummed his pleasure and drew Axe down to snuggle tightly. ~Thank you.~

~You're welcome,~ Axe murmured, pressing himself close to Dai Atlas' warm plating. Resting his helm against a blue shoulder, the black Knight let his optics dim, letting out a soft contented rumble.

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Wing was almost vibrating right off Dai Atlas' shoulder as the blue Knight walked into the medical bay, Axe at his side and Titanium following. White wings flared and fluttered, plating flared and settled, and his excited chirr hadn't stopped for a nano-klik. Dai Atlas had had to grab hold of the little jet to stop him from vibrating right off his perch, and Titanium was laughing at Wing's antics.

"Well, I can see who is most eager for the news," Dagger snickered at his Daoshi from where he was double checking the equipment that hadn't been used since Stormcloud had come in, hoping the fluctuations in his spark meant he was carrying.

"Which should surprise no one," Hardwing shook his helm. "On the berth, and hand your living kibble to someone else."

"No surprise at all." Axe looked up as Wing took a flying leap from Dai Atlas' shoulder in Titanium's direction. The elder mech caught the jet right out of the air without looking up, letting Wing climb up his arm to his shoulder. "You should have seen him bouncing around our quarters before he climbed up there."

"It's been a very long time since I've seen anyone bouncing around like that," Titanium added, reaching up to scratch right between Wing's wings. Wing grasped a purple-and-gold-marked wing for balance, leaning into the touch.

"Can you blame me for being excited?" Wing squirmed slightly.

"No," several voices replied in unison.

"Are you sure you want a sparkling subjected to his antics?" Dagger grinned as he handed a scanner to Hardwing to use on Dai Atlas.

"Have you felt anything unusual?" Hardwing asked Dai Atlas.

"Nothing I can't attribute to other causes," he admitted, unwilling to get his hopes up.

"I'm sure we can get him to calm down somehow," Axe chuckled, reaching out to take his mate's hand, curling his dark fingers around Dai Atlas' white, thumb stroking lightly over the larger mech's fingers. "After all, we know where his 'off' switch is."

Titanium's laugh echoed through the room. "Is it that spot right between his wings? He goes from bouncing to puddle when scratched there."

Wing's wings twitched, the little jet choosing to ignore that comment.

"That one," Dai Atlas grinned, pretending to ignore the various devices being plugged into him, then the gentle demand to open his chest armor and spark chamber.

Wing pouted at Dai Atlas and Axe, crossing his arms over his chestplate. Titanium chuckled, petting a white wing lightly while he watched the examination. Axe shook his helm at the little white jet, continuing to lightly stroke his mate's hand as the room fell to a tense silence. Everyone was waiting for Hardwing's determination.

Most of them noticed when Firefly dropped in through the balcony window, but he remained respectfully quiet so he was permitted to remain. Even as a youngling he knew the rules of Hardwing's domain.

"Congratulations," Hardwing smiled at Dai Atlas, watching as the much larger mech sagged in visible relief. "For its age, the new spark is large and strong. I'd say your gambit paid off."

Wing almost pounced on Dai Atlas, only to be caught out of the air by his current perch and tucked under a purple arm. Tilting his helm, he scowled up at Titanium while everyone else laughed. "Hey!"

"Save the pouncing for after he's out of Hardwing's clutches, or you'll be tossed out the window," the larger mech pointed out. Titanium walked over to stand next to Axe, not letting go of the squirming jet. "Congratulations, my friend."

"Thank you for your help," Axe murmured, looking up into the older warrior's optics.

By the windows, Firefly beamed, green optics lighting up. "That's great! I'll have a playmate soon."

"Yes, you will," Dai Atlas smiled at the youngling that he still wanted to grab and make off with. "Thank you," he inclined his helm to Titanium as he sat up and double-checked that all his ports were closed and parts were back where they belonged. "Give the little flutter-glitch here before he combusts," he laughed at Wing's continued squirming.

Firefly bounced over to join the group, silver-tipped wings fluttering happily. Titanium shifted his grip on Wing, holding the white jet under both arms and handing the wiggling form to Dai Atlas. Wing puffed up at Titanium, glowering up at the unrepentant triple changer's grin, before melting as Axe reached over to stroke behind a white audial flare, neatly distracting him.

Titanium stood back, watching with a smile. He was happy for his old friend and student, and he knew the sparkling would be well cared for. His own role in the newspark's existence was now over, and it was for the best. Any hint that he'd kindled, much less with Dai Atlas, and the sparkling would never know peace.

"Do you need that inhibitor back in before you go back on duty?" Hardwing shifted his focus from the happy family to the mech who'd made it possible.

"To tell the truth, I don't care if it goes back in or not, but getting it reinstalled will spare me an interrogation at my next fitness exam." Titanium flicked his wings.

"Then come by in the morning and I'll install it," Hardwing nodded.

"Are you leaving?" Wing looked up.

The old mech reached over to rub Wing's red crest. "I'll be around for a few more orns. Then I have some business to see to in Iacon."

"It's been good seeing you again, and for so long," Dai Atlas smiled at him and got the rest of the way up. "I'm sure everyone else will miss you, too, both stories and sparring."

Titanium inclined his helm to the CMO. "I'll be here." Returning his attention to Dai Atlas, he smiled. "The stories, the sparring, and occasionally the hyper jet wrangling." Smile became grin at the huff he got from Wing at that comment. Reaching over, he tapped Dai Atlas lightly on the helm. "Send me images every now and then. The sparkling is yours and Axe's, but its spark is part of me, and I would like to see how the little one turns out."

"We will," he promised easily. "Along with the antics of these two," he added as Wing settled happily on his shoulder. "Just stop by next time you're on Cybertron. I'm sure the youngest one of the lot would like to meet my mentor he's heard so much about."

The older silver and purple triple changer smiled. "I will."

"I'd like to see you again, too," Wing chirped, reaching over to lightly tug on golden pseudo-hair.

"It might be a while until my next leave, but I will be back," Titanium murmured.

"We know," Axe assured him. "There may be delays, but messages do get through."

"All right, everyone but the new creators out," Hardwing began to shoo everyone away. "Yes, Wing, you can stay." He rolled his optics at the pathetic pleading look he got from the white jet. "I just need to give them supplies and explain everything they need to do differently."

Firefly was out the window in a flash, probably off to tell his own creators the news, who would then pass it on to the rest of the Citadel long before the happy couple and their eldest escaped Hardwing. Titanium rubbed Wing's helm once more, then followed Firefly out at a more sedate pace, casually hopping off the balcony and heading down to the main courtyard.

Axe watched the two mechs leave, then leaned against his mate, reaching up to tweak a white wingtip before turning his attention to Hardwing.


	15. Sheerwing

**Fandom**: Transformers G1  
**Author**: gatekat, ultrarodimus on LJ  
**Pairing**: Axe/Dai Atlas  
**Rating**:  
**Codes**: Slash, Historical Setting, Knights of Light, Mechpreg, Birth, Sparkling  
**Summary**:  
**Disclaimer**: The authors are only playing with their own twisted muses. Transformers belong to Hasbro. Fandom-side, check the inspirations page (gatekat-fics .livejournal 290 .html). We draw from a ton of amazing stories and authors you should read.

Kneeling to the Sword 15: Sheerwing  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ =================== ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Six orns had passed since Dai Atlas had learned that he was with spark, and two orns since his old friend Titanium had left the Citadel to return to Iacon. The news that Dai Atlas was carrying a newspark had spread rapidly though the Citadel's population. Mecha were still dropping by to offer their congratulations and offer assistance with anything the couple might want.

Axe and his mate were holed up in their own quarters, on the couch in the main living area. The black mech was leaning against Dai Atlas' side, helm resting on his shoulder, while Wing was sprawled across their laps, purring contentedly as his wings were petted. The white jet shifted ever so slightly, leaning his helm against Dai Atlas' torso.

All three were startled by a discreet tap on the door of their quarters. Making a face, Axe got up, walking over to the door. "Who is it?"

"Titanus," a familiar voice replied.

"Come in," Dai Atlas called as he pinged the door to open and turned such as he could to look at the messenger. "How are you doing?"

Titanus smiled at the blue Knight as he stepped inside. "I'm doing well, thank you." Nodding a greeting to Wing, the teleporter walked over. "Titan sent me with a couple of packages, one for Wing, one for you and Axe. He had the one for you labeled as important." Two fair-sized packing crates appeared out of his subspace, one with Wing's designation on it, the other bearing Dai Atlas'.

Wing perked up, blinking at the packages. "He sent something for me?"

"I'm not surprised," Dai Atlas smiled as he accepted the package for him and Axe set Wing's on the floor in front of them. "He does enjoy spoiling those he cares about, and at his rank and time in service, he makes more than he could ever spend on leave."

Wing climbed off Dai Atlas' lap, walking over to open the package. He peered inside, then chirred and reached in to lift out a carved mask made from some kind of silvery material, crystal, and feathers. "Oh wow." Setting the mask carefully aside, he reached in again and lifted out a small, intricate sculpture.

"Those look like they came from some of the worlds he's visited during his lifetime." Axe peered in, then sat beside Dai Atlas, looking curiously at the package Titanium had sent for him.

Dai Atlas glanced at the messenger. "Did he want a report?"

"Not that I'm aware of." The teleporter shook his helm. "He just said that he had something important for you, and I could get it here the fastest." Blue optics brightened as Wing let out a trill, unfolding a woven wall hanging depicting a sunrise over an alien ocean. The jet's optics were wide and bright as he took in the detail and the vivid colors.

Axe nudged his mate gently, curiosity seeping through the bond as he looked at the box in Dai Atlas' lap that was being studiously ignored by the mech it was for.

The courier ruffled his wings slightly. "I'll be on my way now."

"Have a good orn," Axe smiled at him. A moment later, he vanished in the by-now-familiar blue flash and pop of displaced air.

With him gone Dai Atlas relaxed slightly and focused on the ornaments that Wing had been given. "I bet there's a datapad in there somewhere telling you about each of those," he smiled at Wing's stunned trill as a thin, flexible material came out. "And the care of them. That's organic. Though what kind I'm not sure, beyond animal fiber."

"I'll be careful," Wing chirred, spreading out the hanging to admire it. "This is beautiful." One hand stroked carefully over the shades of blues and greens used for the water, then Wing carefully refolded it and dove back into the crate. Only his fluttering wingtips and lower half stuck out as he eagerly reached for the next item.

Axe chuckled softly. "That made his orn," he murmured. He nudged Dai Atlas again. "Are you going to open ours? Curiosity is eating me alive."

Dai Atlas chuckled and surrendered the box to the floor between them before clicking the ID lock open, more than content to let Axe explore at first.

The black and gold mech leaned over, opening the lid. Reaching in, Axe pulled out a soft plush toy of unusually high quality. Smiling, Axe showed it to his mate. "Titan has good taste."

"He always has," he smiled and took the large and very unrealistic petrorabbit. "Just wait until the sparkling is old enough for serious gifts. I have no doubt he's going to try to give it its first blades."

Axe returned to the crate, this time coming up with a datapad. "This is addressed to you, Dai."

That raised an optic ridge and perked the carrier's interest. "Not to us?" he asked as he reached for it and realized it was ID locked to him. A sharp spike of _curiosity-concern_ flickered over the bond as he unlocked it and skimmed the contents. "His business in Iacon was record diving," he murmured, stunned and deeply touched. This meant more to him than any gift credits could buy, and he had no doubt that his mentor knew it.

The datapad opened with a note from Titanium, explaining that he had been digging into the ancient records and had uncovered extensive files left by the General who had ordered Dai Atlas' abduction and reformatting. Everything he'd been able to find he'd copied onto that datapad. It included Dai Atlas' city of origin, the temple where he had been training, lists of the priests he'd been training with, even images of what Dai Atlas had looked like when he had been Dei Kanal.

Axe leaned over to look at the datapad, taking his mate's hand. "Just like him... Give him a mystery and he will chase down every lead he can find," the black Knight murmured. "He knew how much it would mean to you."

"I'm sure he did," Dai Atlas leaned in to kiss Axe in a long, slow passion that was more expression of how deeply Dai Atlas felt about the news than intention to arouse the black mech. "I intend to visit the temple. The priests may no longer function, but they might have something more about Dei Kanal. Personal stories or something."

~I have no intention of stopping you, love,~ Axe murmured, returning the kiss. ~I know it's something you have to do.~

A delighted squeal from Wing made the black and gold mech jump slightly, having forgotten the little jet was there. Several other ornamental masks, crystal and wood and feathers, lay in a neat row, and Wing was currently half buried in a plush, synth-fiber coverlet or blanket bearing intricate patterns of white and gold. Bright gold optics sparkled up at the two older mechs. "It's so warm, and so _soft_!"

"He learned you well," Dai Atlas smiled indulgently. "That's one of his talents, it made him an exceptional mentor and instructor. He could look at a mecha and know how to motivate them, then actually _do_ it. I'm sure the sparkling will enjoy snuggling with you with that on your berth."

Wing's wings fluttered happily under the soft material, and his grin was nearly blinding. "I look forward to it." He carefully packed the masks, the hanging, and the sculptures back into the crate, keeping only the soft blanket. A moment later, he climbed into Axe's lap, still half hidden under gold-and-white softness.

Axe chuckled at the ecstatic little jet. "You're adorable when you're happy." He rubbed Wing's helm affectionately, touching the blanket and recognizing the finest, softest material available. Titanium certainly spared no expense when he wanted to pamper someone.

"What else did you get?" Wing prompted as he snuggled in, purring and trilling as he quivered in sheer happiness.

~You're getting good vid captures?~ Dai Atlas asked his mate with a grin.

~Oh yes,~ Axe replied with a chuckle. Carefully leaning over his lapful of jet, he reached into the crate and fished out another soft toy, this one a fluffy turbofox. Next came a package of building blocks and several soft blankets for sparklings. All of it was very high-quality. Another datapad contained stories meant to be read to newsparks and sparklings.

"He is going to spoil us all rotten," Dai Atlas chuckled as he examined the growing pile of fluffy things. "Beautiful things to look at and soft things to snuggle with," he rumbled with deepening affection for the mech who had mentored him in the only existence he'd known, and done so very well. "I hope he gets back in time to see the sparkling as a youngling."

"I think that might be the intention," Axe chuckled, lifting the last item, a simple puzzle, out of the crate. "Spoiling us and our sparkling. And I hope so, too."

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The approach to Tyger Pax was one of extreme practicality and almost military control. For a single city to produce sixty percent of the planet's manufacturing it had to be. It also had to be almost entirely working class mecha; those who did hard labor for limited pay. Yet even here in a city known for having little use for decoration, the central Temple to Primus was a beautiful thing. More angular and heavy looking than most, it was still of the best crafting the city could produce.

Wing and Axe flanked Dai Atlas as the trio approached the city. They made a slightly odd sight, two large airframes flying in formation with a much smaller, compact stunt frame. The little white jet had played around the larger two for a couple of joors after leaving the Citadel, then had settled into formation with them, flying off Dai Atlas' left wing.

When the white jet found out what had been on the datapad Titanium had sent his creator, he had insisted on coming. The older pair had accepted his presence, allowing him to come with them. He peered ahead, taking in the cityscape of Tyger Pax and their destination. This hadn't been one of the cities he had visited while on walkabout, and he was curious. The stories the older pair told him of their travels only heightened his curiosity.

::You're welcomed to explore, Wing,:: Dai Atlas commed him as they received their clearance and flight path to the temple. ::You know where we'll be.::

::I'll explore later,:: Wing replied, sidling a little closer and brushing his field against Dai Atlas'. ::Right now I'd rather be with you.::

The giant gave a flicker of warmth across their fields and angled in for a landing at the temple. He'd commed ahead, they knew who was coming, but he still didn't know what kind of welcome he'd receive.

Wing returned the warmth, settling back into formation. Axe hummed through the bond from Dai Atlas' other side. Both followed Dai Atlas down, transforming for a neat landing.

A group of mecha waited on the temple steps, white optics watching the new arrivals calmly. From the markings on their red armor, they were junior priests or acolytes. Once the three fliers had set down and the echoes of their engines faded away, the group approached.

"Welcome to the Primary Temple of Primus for Tyger Pax," the one in front greeted them smoothly.

"Thank you," Dai Atlas bowed his wings and dipped his helm in respect to the priests and the one they represented. "I come seeking my past. I have been told that part of it was here."

"We will help you as much as we can, to find what you seek." The speaker nodded to all three fliers. Axe and Wing returned the gesture with polite respect. "Please, come inside."

Dai Atlas quietly followed the much smaller mecha, though they were tall and slender by normal standards, into the temple's great entry hall.

Axe and Wing trailed Dai Atlas, the little white jet on his best behavior. He walked quietly to Dai Atlas' left, on his own two pedes rather than climbing up onto the larger mech's shoulder.

The entry hall of the temple was intricately decorated and inlaid with precious minerals. Mosaics and carved reliefs adorned the walls. Other residents of the temple moved about, their armor displaying patterns of varying complexity to denote their rank in the temple hierarchy. Multiple pairs of white optics turned to regard the trio of fliers curiously.

The three junior priests led the way across the main hall deeper into the temple, toward the smaller chambers where mecha could sit down and talk, either with the senior priests or the High Priest himself. The room to which Dai Atlas, Axe, and Wing were led was occupied by a single mech, his red armor showing the intricate glyphs and patterns that stated he was the leader of this temple.

Without hesitation Dai Atlas dipped his wings and helm in respect for the old mech, though the High Priest was but a youngling compared to the Knight. "Thank you for agreeing to speak with me."

"You are most welcome." The High Priest waved the trio to seats, watching as they settled themselves. "I will endeavor to help you find what it is you are seeking any way I can." He leaned forward slightly. "Skysong tells me you are here seeking answers about your past."

"Yes," Dai Atlas inclined his wings, meeting the High Priest's white optics steadily. "It came to my attention recently that I was kindled and reformatted as a young mech, rather than sparked for the military as I had long believed. My military mentor found records indicating that my designation was Dei Kanal late in the rule of Alpha Prime, and I was being trained as a priest in this temple."

Red armor flared in surprise. "That designation is known to me. A youngling with a great gift, a very long time ago. His disappearance caused the temple community much sorrow. No one ever found out what had happened to him." The High Priest leaned forward. "You are certain that you are, or were, Dei Kanal?"

"As certain as I can be of such a thing," he nodded. "My current medic told me without question that I was kindled, which means what I was told my entire remembered existence was a lie. For who I was..." he unsubspaced the datapad that Titanium had sent him and offered it. "The gift Dei Kanal and I share, when combined with when he disappeared and when I awoke with these records, make it very likely that he became me."

Stormwing leaned forward, accepting the datapad. Leaning back in his seat, he scrolled slowly through the data it contained, white optics taking in everything. It was more than a breem before he finally lowered the datapad again, lifting his gaze to meet Dai Atlas'. "The gift Dei Kanal bore was completely unique; the military could never have copied such an ability. If you bear that same gift, then without a doubt, you are our lost brother."

"I simply call it the Song," Dai Atlas said quietly. "I can lift guilt and pain from a spark, or unleash everything I have taken in on all those close enough to feel the full resonance. It is not a gift I have dared use often since the middle of Vector Prime's reign. The price on my spark is far too high."

"That, indeed, was Dei Kanal's gift." Stormwing returned the datapad to Dai Atlas, who subspaced it, and leaned back slightly. "Because of it, he was being trained as a spark-healer. He would have been the High Priest of Tyger Pax in time."

Dai Atlas gave himself a moment, his optics dimmed, to take that in. "Instead I became a General," he said with a faint twitch of his wings. "Are there any left who remember Dei Kanal?"

The High Priest shook his helm. "I am sorry, but no. The last who might have known him returned to Primus millennia ago. What is remembered of Dei Kanal was passed down from our predecessors and the temple records."

Dai Atlas sighed, but canted his wings in understanding. "I can not say I am surprised. I doubt there are a score of mecha as old as I am in the entire empire. While I would welcome anything you would share about him, two things I wish to know more than most. What was he like as a mecha, and if he had learned to temper the price on his spark for experiencing the grief and pain using his gift inflicts."

"According to the records, Dei Kanal was an open, outgoing young mech, and one who liked to help others. He was very well regarded in the temple community despite his young age. His disappearance spawned many searches, lasting for many vorns." Stormwing watched as the black and gold mech next to Dai Atlas wrapped his hand around the larger blue triple changer's, and the much smaller white mech unobtrusively sidled closer. "And yes, he did so learn. His training was well recorded, and could work for you as well."

Wide wings sagged in relief as he leaned lightly against Axe and put his other arm around Wing. "I would be most grateful for that. It has been a difficult existence the way I was trained to use it."

"I can only imagine what the military would want with such a gift, and I don't imagine that they would be too concerned with the effects it would have on you as long as they got the results they wanted." Intricately-marked red armor flared, clearly expressing the High Priest's opinion of turning such a gift, a gift from the hand of Primus, into a weapon. Settling his armor, Stormwing inclined his helm. "I will bring the relevant records out of the archives."

"Thank you," Dai Atlas tucked Axe's helm under his chin and held on tightly. Though Stormwing was too far away to feel the _relief-gratitude-giddiness_ in Dai Atlas' field, his frame and wing language expressed it clearly.

The High Priest smiled at the black mech's smile and the small white mech's soft chirr. The black and gold mech could only be Dai Atlas' mate; the little white one was most likely their creation. After a moment, Stormwing rose to his pedes, inclining his helm to the trio. "It might take me a short time to locate the records in question. I will have energon brought for you."

"Thank you," Axe replied, blue optics meeting white, leaning closer to his mate. All three watched as the High Priest left.

"Better than I dared hope for," Dai Atlas murmured.

"Better than _any_ of us dared hope for, considering how long it's been," Axe replied, letting his optics dim and leaning closer.

Wing snuggled closer to Dai Atlas' side, though he refrained from crawling into the larger mech's lap, as he would have at the Citadel. "I hope the training does help relieve at least some of the effects your gift has on you." He curled one arm around the larger arm wrapped around his shoulders, smiling up at his creator.

"So do I," Dai Atlas allowed the shiver to pass through his frame. "Even if it is not enough to fully ease my spark, any help would be welcome. It would be rewarding to use my gift to help people, and not just to further destruction."

The white jet purred softly, humming his agreement. "A much better use of your gift than what the military wanted of it."

Axe sent reassurance through the bond. "Anything that might help is better than nothing at all."

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Firefly chirped cheerfully to himself as he bounced into the Citadel's rec lounge with his creators, green optics brightening as he saw that Dai Atlas and Axe were already there, a white shape perched on Axe's other side. It was well known along the Knights that Dai Atlas was only orns from his sparkling's separation, and Firefly was very eager to meet his future playmate. Fearlessly, he bounded over to the pair, reaching out to lightly brush his hand against the blue giant's abdomen, bulging and squared off from the sparkling inside.

A snarl exploded above him, then a cry from his carrier as the storm-gray Praxian became a blur, tackling his creation to get the youngling out of the way of the powerful hand coming down on him.

A blur of red caught the descending hand. Shogun's optics flashed fiery orange as he twisted, setting his pedes. Within a few nanokliks he had Dai Atlas down, one arm twisted in a rather uncomfortable position, the former cop's knee planted right between Dai Atlas' wings.

Wing yelped, staring, while Axe was on his pedes but not sure what to do. Dai Atlas' temper had been volatile for metacycles, but the majority of the Citadel's population had learned to avoid him.

"Don't you dare hurt my sparkling," Shogun growled, keeping Dai Atlas pinned but taking care not to actually damage him or the unseparated sparkling he carried. Centuries of training as a cop came to the fore in that moment, guiding him on how to immobilize without injuring the most vulnerable of their kind.

Every other mecha in the room, Knight or not, focused on the scene as Dai Atlas twisted and growled. Military training against police training didn't normally give much chance to the cop, but these weren't normal circumstances.

Suddenly Dai Atlas froze, a strangled sound of pain escaping him that had nothing to do with the mech on top of him. His field lashed out, desperate for the one holding him down to understand he _had_ to move.

The former policemech went from growl to stare in an instant, then let go and helped Axe pull the bigger mech upright. He was aware that _something_ was going on, and it probably had to do with the sparkling.

Once Dai Atlas was upright, Shogun let go, stepping back. He tapped Axe on the shoulder before the black mech could get out of reach, catching Axe's attention briefly. "He stays away from Firefly until his temper settles," Shogun told the black and gold Knight firmly.

Axe nodded, then herded his stumbling mate out of the rec room, Wing right behind him.

~Hardwing,~ was all Dai Atlas could get out, pain tearing at his frame as the sounds of small transformations reached his mate.

::Hardwing, separation is beginning,:: Axe informed the CMO as he helped Dai Atlas through the corridors, keeping him from falling. Wing trailed them anxiously. ::We're on our way up now.::

::We're ready,:: the reply came immediately. did the first warning pop up?::

::Not even a breem ago. The little one is apparently anxious to get out, from the sounds I can hear.:: Axe caught his mate, keeping him from falling. ::We're almost there.::

::Takes after his carrier,:: Hardwing commented before closing the line.

Dai Atlas leaned heavily on his mate, his entire frame twitching erratically as the sparkling tried to claw and force his way out.

Axe all but dragged his mate into the medical bay, armor flaring and bristling worriedly. Wing was a mess of nerves as he trailed the pair, clearly unwilling to venture too far away. "Hardwing!"

"Calm down, flutter-mech," the CMO yelled back before focusing on Axe as he scanned Dai Atlas. "Get him on that berth and get by his helm. I need you to keep his hands out of my way. I do not stick carriers in stasis if I can help it."

Axe herded his mate to the berth and up onto it, taking hold of one of Dai Atlas' hands and holding it tightly. Wing wrapped both arms around the blue mech's other forearm, wings fluttering as he watched, optics wide. He could see abdominal plates beginning to part and the much louder sounds of movement beyond them.

In addition to transformation and movement, there were the sharp clicks and growls of a _very_ unhappy mech inside, and the occasional sound of damage being done that went along with Dai Atlas' pain and twitching.

Axe rumbled, looking into the parting abdominal cavity, trying to tell the sparkling to calm down. He had no creator bond with the little mech, so he could only communicate vocally. Stroking his mate's helm, he sent soothing feelings along the bond. All he could feel from his mate was pain, distress and the conflicting protocols that gave him a better appreciation for why military mecha shouldn't carry. Even as toned down as Dai Atlas' military protocols were, they were still screaming at him to tear the damage-causing _thing_ from his body.

"That's good. Distract him if you can, but keep those hands away," Hardwing said as he began to work frantically to assist the sparkling and avoid _another_ rebuild of Dai Atlas' abdominal region.

Axe gripped Dai Atlas' hand tightly, running his fingers over the lines and planes of his mate's heavy helm, stroking the sensitive edges of the golden crests. Wing leaned his full weight on Dai Atlas' other arm, though he knew the big mech could send him flying right across the room with one sharp movement. The little jet chirred and trilled, wings fluttering, kneading the heavy armor of his creator's forearm.

There was a sudden squawk from inside Dai Atlas' frame, then the sound of tearing and movement stopped, leaving only transformation sounds. Hardwing gave a sound of triumph as Dai Atlas sagged in relief.

"Little glitch-hawk is going to be a handful to raise, as if you didn't already know," Hardline commented as he assisted Dai Atlas' frame in opening itself up.

"That we figured out not long after he started talking to Dai," Axe replied, leaning over slightly to peer into his mate's abdomen. "He's a fiery little mech." He couldn't see much, but the glow of large, bright red optics, a few shades lighter than his carrier's, was clear in the darkness.

"Very," he agreed, relaxing slightly now that the impatient sparkling wasn't tearing up his carrier's guts. "Relax little one," he cooed to the creature he was working to free safely. "You'll be out soon."

Axe rumbled again, this time a soothing sound, continuing to stroke his mate's helm. Wing craned his neck, peeking at the parted armor with a curious chirrup, relaxing ever so slightly. He didn't let go of Dai Atlas' arm, just in case.

A chirp replied, a sound of curiosity mixed with annoyance and demand for attention.

"Demanding too," Hardwing chuckled. "I overrode his fine motor controls. It'll only last a breem, but he'll come out easier for it."

White audial fins twitched. Wing shifted, almost sitting on Dai Atlas' forearm, peering toward bright optics. He chirped again, trilling and clicking.

"That would explain why he settled down." Axe leaned over for a better look, sending what he was seeing to his mate.

Baleful red optics glared back as the sparkling began to chitter, click and growl his displeasure at the larger creatures holding him back. As the larger inner armor plates moved more fully out of the way they could all see a face with the nubs of a three-point crown much like his carrier and the inner protoform that would one orn support long, wide wings. His face, though, had much of Axe's look, including the nubs that would become a chevron over large optics.

~He's going to be a handsome little mech,~ Axe told Dai Atlas, showing his mate what he was seeing. ~He's going to have your crest.~

~And your chevron,~ Dai Atlas murmured, the bulk of his attention on getting his frame to open up faster.

Wing trilled, wings wiggling, then settled back to wait until the new sparkling was out.

They all knew the moment the breem was up because Dai Atlas keened and tensed while Sheerwing began clawing and straining forward once more.

Axe's armor rippled, his grip tightening on the larger mech's hand. "Settle down, little one! You're almost out!"

"Stop holding me!" Sheerwing snarled back, straining to free his left wing. He suddenly stilled again, sort of, when Hardwing's strong, sure hands gripped him firmly to untangle the wing from a cable that had been feeding energon into the sparkling's systems.

"Dagger, get your hands up here and help out," Hardwing ordered.

"Yes sir." The lithe Praxian immediately hopped up on the berth and went to work, his hands delving into Dai Atlas' frame without hesitation, moving cables and tubing and deftly avoiding sharp little denta that tried to bite him.

~Definitely going to be a handful.~ Axe shifted. "Fighting and clawing is not going to get you out any faster, and will only cause your carrier more pain. Calm down!"

~So was I, right after I woke,~ Dai Atlas groaned. ~I was given to Titanium for good reason.~

Something in Axe's tone registered with the aggressive sparkling, for Sheerwing settled somewhat. He still strained upwards, pulling at cables that hadn't let go yet, but he stopped trying to attack anything that got close.

~He raised you well, and we will raise Sheerwing well,~ Axe replied. ~And we can still draw on Titan's knowledge, when we can reach him.~

~Yes,~ Dai Atlas shivered as the final cable connecting him to his sparkling popped off, freeing the large, strong protoform to pull himself the rest of the way out of his carrier.

Sheerwing stilled, somewhat, once he was free and kneeling on Dai Atlas' lower chest. At nearly two thirds the size of Wing, he would never be _small_, but compared to his carrier and his likely eventual size, he seemed tiny now.

Wing chirped a greeting, audial fins flaring out and gold optics bright. Slowly, he unwrapped himself from Dai Atlas' forearm, shifting onto the edge of the berth. "Hello, Sheerwing."

"Wing," the sparkling focused on the white mech only a bit larger than he was.

Axe smiled as he looked over the sparkling's frame. ~Your crest and your wings, love.~

~Your chevron, face and build,~ Dai Atlas purred in reply, entirely too enamored of the mixed features and bright, alert nature visible in the newly separated sparkling. ~He _looks_ like he's fully ours.~

~He does indeed.~ Axe looked over at Hardwing, wanting to reach out and touch the sparkling his mate had nurtured for almost a vorn.

Wing purred. "I'm happy to finally meet you." Slender wings fluttered as he moved closer, field reaching out, bright and welcoming.

Bright red optics regarded him warily for a lingering moment before he accepted the greeting and relaxed his field to brush against Wing's only to pull back in surprise as he looked between Wing and Dai Atlas.

"Not yours?" Sheerwing asked his carrier.

"Not that way no," Dai Atlas acknowledged. "You are the first to come from my frame. We chose to claim Wing."

"I'm their adopted creation," Wing explained. "My own creators discarded me. Dai and Axe adopted me. I do call them my creators, but I did not come from their frames." He smiled brightly at the slightly smaller sparkling.

Axe reached over to rub Wing's crest before running his fingertips lightly over Sheerwing's helm, smiling at the way the normally aggressive sparkling cooed and sank down on the spot, half way into recharge. "He's ours, but in a different way than you are."

Sheerwing hummed acceptance, though all of his attention was on how _good_ the physical contact was as his optics dimmed in pleasure.

Wing chirred, sidling closer. He reached out to lightly touch Sheerwing's arm. "The whole Citadel is waiting eagerly to meet you."

"And I think only the fear of Hardwing is keeping them out." Axe glanced toward the door.

"And likely fear of me," Dai Atlas chuckled as he reached down to shift his recharging creation up to his chest, directly over his spark. "And fortunately he seems to have an off switch as effective as Wing's."

Wing chuckled at that, curling into Dai Atlas' side, between his arm and his torso, watching his newly separated brother recharging. Axe hummed, picking up a rag and gently beginning to clean the drying fluids off Sheerwing's frame.

"That, too." The black Knight tilted his helm at his mate, gently shifting a small wing panel. He felt his mate begin to sink into recharge and smiled. It was good that Dai Atlas finally felt safe enough to do so.

There was a tap on the door, then Vanguard stepped into the room. White optics took in the large blue triple changer on the berth and the medic up to his elbows in Dai Atlas' abdominal cavity, repairing the damage caused by small claws. Stepping closer, Vanguard looked down at the recharging sparkling, smiling, before looking up at Axe. "What is his designation?"

"Sheerwing," Axe smiled back, blue optics glittering with emotion as he tended to the sparkling on his mate's chest. "He's going to be even more of a handful than we anticipated."

"He is definitely going to keep you on your toes." The Sovereign's smile widened, and he brushed his fingers lightly over Sheerwing's helm. "Welcome, Sheerwing. Welcome."

The sparkling, nearly as large as an adult mech of moderate size, stirred slightly but settled at the former priest's field.

"He'll keep everyone on their toes, especially once he starts to fly," Axe chuckled. "Though I do hope he'll mellow slightly once he has the sky to entertain himself in."

"And every flier in the Citadel willing to fly with him," Vanguard agreed. "Speaking of everyone else in the Citadel, they are all very eager for news. They're just very wary of your mate, especially after what happened with Firefly." He tilted his helm toward the door, where several other mecha were peeking in around the doorframe.

"If they are quiet," Axe nodded. "Dai is out cold, but if they rouse Sheerwing it will likely rouse him."

"And stay out of my way," Hardwing added. "That little one is a pit demon. Tore his carrier up something fierce."

Vanguard padded over to the door, speaking softly to the other waiting mecha. They began easing into the room in ones and twos, taking great pains to be quiet and keeping their distance, murmuring softly at the newly separated sparkling. More than a few were amazed at Sheerwing's size, having never seen the sparkling of such a large mecha before. They all gave Axe warm looks and promises of help as they left.

The Sovereign leaned over to peer around Hardwing at the damage, careful not to get in the way. "How bad is it?"

"Nothing that a couple joors work and few orns recovery won't fix," Hardwing said as he repaired a small energon line. "He took a lot more damage than Stormcloud did, but he's also better designed to take and recover from it."

Shogun was one of the last to come in, maintaining a careful distance even though Dai Atlas was clearly deep in recharge. Firefly hid behind his sire, wings folded tight to his back, hands tight on Shogun's arm. The mechling peered over at Sheerwing, one wing twitching. He hadn't been quite that large when he had separated, but then, his creators were smaller than Dai Atlas was.

"He will be sane the next time you meet him," Axe assured the youngling. "Sheerwing will be able to play with you in a metacycle or so, when he has some armor."

Firefly smiled cautiously at Axe, but didn't come out from behind his sire. "I didn't mean to set him off..."

"It wasn't your fault," Wing chimed in from where he curled into Dai Atlas' side. "Dai's temper had been highly volatile for the last couple metacycles. Anything could have set him off. Even I was hiding from his temper."

"Sometimes carriers have their processors scrambled by what's happening inside them," Hardwing added without looking up. "Dai Atlas is a classic example of the kind of carrier that does better in isolation. The state doesn't suit him."

"Something to keep in mind should he ever feel the need to try again." Vanguard nodded. "Though that might be a long time in the future." He touched Sheerwing's arm gently. "Congratulations, to you and Dai Atlas."

"Honestly, I hope it won't be anytime soon," Axe admitted, his optics on the sparkling but his fingers stroking his mate's crown. "When he's carrying it's not easy on any of us."

"It may take a thousand vorns for Sheerwing to become a full adult. If Dai Atlas decides to try again sooner than that, I would be most surprised. This little one will keep both of you on your toes." Vanguard smiled, huffing softly. "And his carrying is not easy on anyone living within the Citadel walls."

"At least it's over now. Once his frame gets back to normal, I _hope_ his protocols settle too," Axe glanced at Shogun.

"Not completely, he'll still be protective, but nothing like the temper we've been subjected to," Hardwing answered.

"We're all hoping, because for the last couple of metacycles being around Dai Atlas has been like living with a time bomb," Shogun replied. "Protective we can live with."

There was a murmured chorus of agreement from outside.

"When he's fighting fit again his military protocols will stop telling him that every tiny thing is a major threat," Axe assured them quietly. "I'm not sure if I can explain to anyone who wasn't military for a long time what it's like, but 'kill it to protect self' protocols rate above energon and recharge in the priority tree. It's just that when he's that sparkling-heavy and crippled, _everything_ seems like a major threat."

"Then we're in for another decaorn or so," Hardwing commented. "His frame should have finished putting itself back to normal by then."

Shogun nodded his understanding. "I'll keep that in mind, and I doubt anyone is likely to forget anytime soon." The red former policemech nodded to Axe, then made his way out, Firefly still keeping his sire's bulk between himself and Dai Atlas.

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Over five centuries had passed since Sheerwing had separated from Dai Atlas' frame, and Sheerwing was now in his youngling frame. He was still a handful, aggressive and volatile with an intense need for speed, but had settled down at least a bit. He understood that hurting another without serious provocation was wrong, even if he was sometimes hazy on the correct definition of 'serious provocation.'

Yelps, squawks, and other sounds of surprise echoed through the Citadel's main courtyard, drawing other residents out of various buildings to see what was going on. There was some muttered cursing as startled mecha picked themselves up off the ground, glowering at an amused-looking purple and silver giant standing in the middle of the courtyard. That giant was almost immediately hit right in the chest by a white streak. Wing actually managed to hit Titanium right in the chest at an angle that somehow was able to bowl the much bigger mech over backward with a startled squawk, much to the amusement of everyone close enough to see the white jet's enthusiastic greeting.

"You're back!" Wing squealed with joy. "It's been too long. The packages were great but we _missed_ you so much."

"Nice to see you, too, Wing," the larger mech chuckled, picking himself up off the ground with Wing still attached to his chest. He wrapped one arm around the small jet, keeping Wing from falling off as Titanium climbed to his pedes. "I'm glad you liked the packages. I couldn't help being away so long; I can't help where I'm sent. I would've been back sooner if I could." Red optics scanned the courtyard as the normal Citadel activities resumed. "So, where are your creators and little brother?"

"Axe is in a binding, Dai's watching over him," Wing chattered happily. "Sheerwing is with Firefly and Stormcloud while I'm doing chores."

"Any indication how much longer that binding might last?" Titanium fished around in his subspace for a moment, pulling something out. "And this is for you." He handed the small white jet a cube of perfectly clear crystal with an insect encased inside. The spread, complex wings were covered in tiny scales and brightly colored, iridescence shimmering across their surfaces. The head was fearsomely jawed, the front four legs clearly meant for catching prey while the other eight legs were for walking. "I brought it back from a planet at the farthest reaches of Cybertronian space."

"_WOW_!" golden optics light up even brighter as Wing disengaged from Titanium's chest to get a better look at the creature about half the size of his closed fist. "You find the _coolest_ stuff," he chirred even as they began to gather an audience. Titanium was well remembered as a storyteller and great entertainer.

"Oh, and he's been going almost six joors, so they'll probably be sociable by dinner," Wing added, his attention fixated on the giant insect in crystal. "Want to catch a nap, or see Sheerwing? I really have to finish my chores."

"Considering how long I've flown to get here, and what's been happening lately, I think it would be better if I get some rest first," the big mech replied after a moment of contemplation. "Then later I can see Axe, Dai, you and Sheerwing together. And then I'll be able to spend several joors satisfying the demand for stories." Titanium tilted his helm toward their audience and the hopeful optics fixed on him.

"Sure thing," Wing chirped agreeably. "Remember the way to the one you stayed in before? It's been assigned to you again. Probably always will be. We don't have many rooms for giant frames."

"I do remember." Titanium gave the white jet an affectionate nuzzle. "I'll see you and family later, then." He shifted his hold on Wing until the little jet was sitting on one purple forearm, free to either hop off and walk or take flight right off the ancient mech's arm.

"See you in a few joors," Wing grinned at him and jumped into the air to return to his duties.

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Several joors later, rested and feeling better than he had when he arrived, Titanium walked into the rec room, red optics taking in the crowd. Dai Atlas was easy to spot, his height standing out among the smaller mecha. Smiling, Titanium made his way over to the large-frametype tables, returning the greetings he was getting from other Knights. It felt _good_ to be among those who knew discipline and combat, but had been at peace for a very long time.

"Welcome back," Dai Atlas greeted him with a deep rumble. "I think Wing nearly burned out his laser core in his excitement over your arrival and not being able to tell us for two entire joors."

"It's good to be back." Titanium found a seat at the table and settled into it, leaning forward. "And I can't say I'm surprised... He greeted me with a flying pounce that put me down flat on my back. That was definitely one of the more enthusiastic greetings I've ever gotten." He reached over to tweak the tip of one of Wing's audial flares, smiling at the resulting grin. "I don't see Sheer with you... Is he around?"

Axe pointed over by a group of five younger mecha chatting near the door, the tallest a distinctive deep purple with trim of gold and silver. "He's old enough to wander a bit. Nearly five hundred vorns and he's _still_ a youngling," he shook his helm in lingering amazement. "I'd seen a score of worlds conquered and stripped by then."

Titanium turned to look over at the group. "He's looking good. Definitely going to be a very handsome mech when he reaches his final adult upgrade." Turning back, he took a sip of his energon. "Kindled sparklings mature more slowly than sparked ones, and it also depends on the final frame size. A kindled mech of Wing's size can reach adulthood in two or three hundred vorns. Dai here would have taken nearly a thousand vorns from separation to full adult."

"So Hardwing keeps saying," Dai Atlas chuckled. "Doesn't make it any less strange. None of us," he motioned to those at the table, "went through that. Even Wing was sparked."

"I was sparked, too, so I know how strange it is, but I'm used to it." Purple shoulders rose in a shrug. "It can be quite rewarding to watch a youngling growing up, be there every step of the way."

"It is," Dai Atlas agreed with an indulgent smile for his creation. "He's half grown and still no sign that those protocols are going to demand another soon."

"Something everyone is beyond relieved for," Axe teased. "You have no idea how scary he is once he starts showing."

"I heard you were quite a terror in the later stages of carrying." Titanium lifted an optic rim. "Would have been interesting to see... from a distance, at least. I'd already been deployed offworld at the time, though."

"I was," Dai Atlas grimaced. "No one was safe. If I do this again, I'm going on a sabbatical somewhere isolated where I can't hurt anyone."

"If you can find someplace isolated and safe," the older mech pointed out. "The Citadel is one of the safest spots. I'm sure I don't have to remind you of what lurks outside. You've seen the raiders before. There are still fair numbers of them out there." He took a drink from his cube. "But then, you've probably got a millennia to find a good spot."

"I hope so." Dai Atlas fluffed his armor. "It's great raising Sheerwing and all, but I'm not full-time creator material no matter what my protocols might think."

"I think you're doing just fine." Titanium reached over to pat his old friend on the shoulder and got a flicker of gratitude that reminded him just how important he still was to his oldest surviving student.

At that moment the youths that Sheerwing was with began to make their way to the storyteller all but the youngling remembered well. Noticing the approaching group, the ancient mech looked up, smiling at them. "Hello again."

"Welcome back," the oldest of the group, a femme Ankmorian Light Jet of deep green and gold smiled warmly at him. "I hope you're staying longer this time. We all missed your stories."

"I've got a full vorn's leave," Titanium replied. "So I will be here for a while, and I have plenty of stories left to tell. As before, anyone who wishes to test their skills against me in the sparring arena is welcome to."

She smiled but flicked her wings in refusal. "I have quite enough of getting my aft handed to me in the sparring circle by my Daoshi, though I am sure there will be many takers among the Senior Knights."

"So you're Titanium," Sheerwing considered his sire critically as red optics took in the mech.

"Yes, that's me." Titanium's level red optics met Sheerwing's. "It's good to finally meet you in person. I've heard much about you."

"As I have of you," the youngling shifted uncertainly before following Axe's motion and taking a seat and cube of energon. "Am I going to have another sibling then?"

"Not anytime soon," the old mech replied. "I'm here because I'm on leave, and this is one place the military can't find me to drag me back out. I rarely get an opportunity to catch up with Dai. I actually managed to get back three centuries earlier than I was originally supposed to." Red optics dimmed, long wings lowering. "My last mission was... bad. Very bad."

"Sorry," Sheerwing responded, even if he didn't even begin to grasp what it meant.

"At least the Prime gave you a reasonable leave," Dai Atlas murmured, entirely too aware of what those words meant. It _hurt_ to lose most of your unit.

Axe reached over to grasp Titanium's hand, while Wing chirred softly, his hand tightening slightly on the crystal cube with the insect inside. Having been around Dai Atlas and Axe for so many centuries, the little white jet knew more than most non-military.

Titanium snorted softly. "Didn't give him much choice. After reinforcements arrived, I brought what was left of my unit back to Cybertron against orders. Nearly two-thirds of them were lost out there, on some nearly lifeless rock on the fringes of our space." His other hand tightened on his empty cube.

"What was the mission?" Dai Atlas asked gently.

"The original mission was investigating the disappearances of small military patrols and science teams, out along the edge of the empire. The higher-ups were thinking space storms knocking out comlinks and disabling communications, pirates, that sort of thing." Red optics dimmed.

"I take it what you found was worse than space storms or pirates," Axe spoke up after a moment of silence.

"Within Cybertronian space, we're the ones in charge. But outside of our space... There is a thriving black market for Cybertronians. Alive, to be reprogrammed for hard labor or mindless weapons. But we're worth more deactivated, for use as parts." The purple and silver mech closed his optics for a long moment. "And they have weapons built to take us down. We were caught completely by surprise."

"Oh Primus," Dai Atlas whispered, his experience and tactical computers all too willing and able to inform him of the results. As much combat experience as most military mecha in the outer reaches had, it was exceedingly rare for them to cross paths with something that could really challenge them.

"We finally managed to gain some ground, and captured their ship. In the main hold we found a dozen stasis-locked mecha, and at least a score more deactivated and stripped for parts. Two more units arrived to reinforce us, and finally we got the upper hand. Prisoners were taken, the ship's database is being picked over for everything in there about this black market ring, and the weapons were taken by the research teams, in order to design new armor that will be more resistant to them. Many good mecha were lost." Titanium's shoulders and wings drooped.

"You aren't a Knight or Supplicant," the deep green Ankmorian Light Jet said cautiously. "There are no rules against you over indulging as long as you do not hurt anyone."

Wing reappeared, having vanished without being noticed. He took the empty cube from the old mech's hand, replacing it with a full cube of jet high grade.

"That's one thing we won't have to worry about, Pharia," Axe told the young femme. "Titan isn't an active or violent drunk. He's a lazy drunk. Tends to stay in one place until literally dragged elsewhere or he falls into recharge. He's always been like that."

She nodded, then looked at the giant that had so memorably entertained her on his last visit. "If something would help, please say so."

Dai Atlas considered his mentor for a long moment. "I can help, if you wish."

Titanium shook his helm. "I'll be fine, Dai. Just have to work it through my system. Your gift comes with too high a cost; I know what using it does to you." He reached over to rest a hand lightly on Dai Atlas'.

"Your gift to me before you left lead to the training for how to use it without tormenting myself so badly," he looked at his mentor with serious earnestness. "Dei Kanal was a spark healer. I will never reach his potential, but his training has done a great deal to help me."

Titanium's optics brightened at that, and he smiled slightly. "I'm glad what I found was able to help. But this is something I would rather work through on my own." Purple and silver armor flared, ruffled, and resettled, the gold trim glittering. "Right now, I'm much more interested in what's going on around here, and in Sheerwing."

"As you wish," Dai Atlas smiled in understanding. What mattered was the offer had been made and understood.

"I don't think much has changed," Wing chirped and hopped up on Titanium's shoulder to settle where he could stroke the giant's helm and offer comfort. "A few Initiates have become Knights, new mecha are Initiates, but it's quiet here like it's supposed to be."

"Quiet is always a good thing." Titanium reached up to pet white wings. "It's certainly preferable to some of the alternatives." He looked up at Wing. "How are you and Sheerwing getting along?"

"Good, once he realized that even if he's taller and heavier, I'm faster and a better wrestler." Wing giggled at the youngling's sour look. "He's gotten a lot more reasonable lately."

"Says the mech who can't recharge alone," Sheerwing snorted, his wings betraying his genuine dislike of his older brother, but also that it was based in lack of self-confidence.

"You're a lighter frametype built for speed, while Sheer is built for range and endurance," Titanium pointed out. "Sheer, you're young; Wing is many times your age and has had a lot more time to practice. You will learn, and you will find that you have your own unique strengths. Just give it time." The elder's calm red optics met the youngling's, who looked away almost instantly at the stinging truth. He didn't reject it though, and lowered his wings slightly.

"That's what everyone tells him, but I think being the youngest in the Citadel, the only mecha who isn't in their adult frame or even close, makes it hard," Wing said very quietly. "Did Dai tell you how eager he was to get out?" he asked in a more normal voice.

"Dai's messages were very detailed, though it did occasionally take them a while to reach me. Yes, I did hear about that." Titanium nodded, shifting one of his swords into a more comfortable position on his back. Those blades still got him some odd looks in the Citadel, since everyone was used to seeing Great Swords carried on the back and paired swords on the hips. "Hardwing managed to repair all of the damage, I trust."

"Yes, I was walking the next orn and fighting fit in a decaorn," Dai Atlas nodded. "He said it wasn't excessive for an over-eager sparkling, even if it was more damage than most did. It was decidedly odd, to feel everything, be aware of everything, but unable to really move on my own accord."

"I know there's a pool in your suite, but if you'd care to join us in ours, it's nicer, and you'd be welcome," Axe offered.

"I can imagine how strange that must have felt." Titanium nodded, then inclined his head to Axe. "I do believe I'll take you up on that offer, Axe. Thank you."

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Vanguard walked through the corridors of the Citadel, heading toward where he knew Sheerwing would be. After nearly a thousand vorns, the young triple changer's habits were firmly set, reducing the need to track him all over the complex. Sheerwing had certainly been a handful for his creators to raise, even with the rest of the Citadel pitching in where they could. His temper had settled to a degree as he matured, but he was still aggressive and hot-helmed. It was something every former military mecha in the Citadel had assured him was utterly normal for a front-line warrior. Even if Sheerwing wasn't one, his heritage was. Even now his carrier was still one of the more violent, aggressive mecha among the Knights.

In a private spot in one of the more isolated crystal gardens, a place usually used for meditation, the giggling moans of youthful mechs were audible before they came into view.

Snorting to himself, Vanguard rounded one of the crystal trees, pausing to regard the two young mecha. One, silver with black trim, was pressed up against the other, rotor blades partially fanned out, one finger drawing lazy spirals over Sheerwing's dark purple armor. It was the rotor, Windblade, who first noticed Vanguard's arrival, stiffening and alerting Sheerwing that they were being watched.

The larger triple changer glanced up, identified the intruder, and attempted to go back to kissing his lover as he reached around to stroke the fanned rotor blades.

Windblade squeaked, rotor blades trembling, leaning shyly into the touch. "Sheer..." Gold optics flicked in Vanguard's direction, the rotor attempting to hide behind his lover.

"Sheerwing," Vanguard called, stepping closer, slightly amused by Windblade's shy reaction.

"Yes, Sovereign?" The triple changer looked at him politely without letting go of his lover.

The elder Seeker flared his wings, pretending not to notice the shy helicopter peeking at him around Sheerwing's armor. "Have you given thought to following in your creators' pedesteps and training as a Knight of Light?"

"Yes, Sovereign," Sheerwing dropped all his insolent manners, proving that his creators _had_ managed to teach him how to behave, he simply chose not to most of the time. "I intend to become a Knight."

The Sovereign smiled at the much younger mecha. "I will see to your training personally."

The stunned look that appeared on Sheerwing's face was not unexpected, but the distressed flicker in his wings was. "Sir ... my creators..."

"Dai Atlas and Axe have requested that another Knight take up your training," Vanguard replied calmly. "I accepted their request, and I will see to your training." A burgundy wing flicked. "I would have trained your carrier, but Wing got there first."

The stunned look deepened for a nanoklik, then smoothed as Sheerwing let go of his lover and canted his wings to Vanguard in submissive respect when he stood. "I would be honored to call you my Daoshi."

The Seeker's smile widened slightly. "Then come, and we will get the paperwork out of the way. You may pick up where you left off with Windblade later."

The rotor squeaked at that, shifting slightly. If Cybertronians could blush his face would have turned an interesting color.

"I definitely will," Sheerwing threw his lover a scalding look that promised a very hot night of celebrating before focusing his attention on Vanguard, following the smaller but faster mech out of the garden.


	16. Healing the Spark

**Fandom**: Transformers G1  
**Author**: gatekat, ultrarodimus on LJ  
**Pairing**: Axe/Dai Atlas, Sheerwing/Kaleidoscope  
**Rating**: PG-13  
**Codes**: Slash, Historical Setting, Knights of Light, Spark  
**Summary**:  
**Disclaimer**: The authors are only playing with their own twisted muses. Transformers belong to Hasbro. Fandom-side, check the inspirations page (gatekat-fics .livejournal 290 .html). We draw from a ton of amazing stories and authors you should read.

Kneeling to the Sword 16: Healing the Spark  
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Dai Atlas felt his wings quiver along with his spark as the Citadel of Light disappeared from his sensors over the horizon. It had been difficult to explain to his family - a word that _still_ felt strange to him - that while they were welcome to visit and he would return for any important events, he wished to train without the distractions of having them there.

Axe had understood, though he hadn't been happy about it. Wing had clung to Dai Atlas' frame for a long breem before finally coming loose, wings twitching, then attached himself to his younger brother despite the larger mech's attempts to dislodge him.

Vanguard, a former priest himself, had given Dai Atlas his blessing. The other Knights of the Citadel had gathered in the courtyard to see their comrade off. While no one spoke of it, most knew that he wouldn't be back to stay for centuries.

It was not something Dai Atlas was happy to think about, even though he'd chosen it. Instead he focused on what he had already learned from Dei Kanal's training records, reviewing them as he made the long flight to Tyger Pax.

The flight took several orns, even with brief stops for energon and rest. Finally, Tyger Pax appeared on the horizon ahead, the city glowing in the distance. The priests at the temple had been notified that Dai Atlas was coming, so they were awaiting his arrival and had arranged quarters for him in the temple complex for the duration of his stay. They knew even better than he did that this was not going to be a short visit.

The giant transformed and set down with the easy grace of a long lifetime before the main entrance.

The High Priest, Stormwing, emerged from the temple, white optics fixed on Dai Atlas' red. Stormwing inclined his helm to the larger mech. "Welcome back, Dai Atlas."

Wide white and blue wings dipped in respect. "Thank you for agreeing to train me," he replied smoothly. "The records helped me a great deal."

"I am glad." Stormwing smiled. "We have gone through all of our records, even consulted with archivists from other temples, in order to fill in a few gaps and ensure that we are able to train you properly. It has been a very long time since there has been a spark healer at any of Cybertron's temples." He turned slightly, one hand gesturing toward the main entrance. "Come. I will show you to the rooms we have set aside for you."

"Thank you," Dai Atlas said and followed the temple leader inside. "It is regrettable that suitable gifts are so rare."

"It is," the High Priest agreed. "Such a gift is so rare it is considered a myth until it actually turns up. Before Dei Kanal, as far as I know there was only one other with that power." He led the way to the living area of the complex, where all the temple residents had their rooms. Only a few suites had been designed for larger frametypes, and the largest had been prepared for Dai Atlas.

When he stepped inside red optics cycled and wings flicked in surprise. "You are _most_ generous," Dai Atlas murmured as he stepped into the spacious living room with two doors leading off it. One double set opened to a balcony he could see, the other was closed but likely lead to a berthroom, since there was no berth in the room he was looking at.

"This suite was the most suitable for your frame size, as well as having been built to accommodate flying mecha," Stormwing replied. "We took your age into account when setting everything up for you, with some suggestions from an anonymous mecha who contacted us not long after you notified us that you were coming."

Dai Atlas' laughter rumbled through the room. "Titan never has stopped looking after me. I appreciate the effort to make my stay a comfortable one," he said with honest sincerity as he met the High Priest's gaze. "If it is acceptable, I have had a long flight. I would greatly appreciate time to wash up and rest before the evening meal."

Stormwing inclined his helm in response. "The rest of the orn is yours, to rest after your long flight. Tomorrow, you will be getting up before sunrise along with the other temple residents to meditate with the dawn, clean and clear of processor."

"I understand, High Priest," Dai Atlas inclined his helm. "I will see you at the evening meal then?"

"One of the acolytes will come to show you to the dining hall." Stormwing smiled warmly up at the larger mech. "Your quarters have a private washrack. Rest well."

Dai Atlas gave a surprised flick of his wings and smiled. "I will, High Priest," he canted his wings respectfully before Stormwing left him to explore his quarters.

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Over the vorns that Dai Atlas had been training his gift at the temple in Tyger Pax, he had long since gotten used to the sounds of the city's factories and industries, audible through most of the temple complex. He'd quickly learned to tune out most of the sounds, no longer registering the ever-present roar of heavy industry just as he'd tuned out the every-present sound of laser fire and explosions in the military.

The orn started off the same as every other orn. Dai Atlas was well into his morning studies when a new sound caught his attention, a sound there was no mistaking for anything other than what it was. The explosion shattered the air, the sound echoing off the buildings and factories. In the near distance, thick clouds of smoke and ash rose over one of the industrial complexes, and the red glow of flames could be glimpsed between the buildings.

Temple residents paused for the barest of instants before dropping whatever they had been doing, streaming toward the main courtyard. Dai Atlas joined those with airframes as they rose to rush to the factory to render what aid they could. He had no idea what he could do, but he trusted his long existence on the battlefield to lead him to what needed to be done first and identify those that should be giving him orders.

Rescue personnel were already converging, working on putting out the flames while others pulled badly wounded mecha out of the wreckage. The priests and temple residents were setting up a makeshift medical center, seeing to the wounded.

Stormwing looked up, spotting Dai Atlas and waving to catch his attention. The High Priest was standing next to a large red mech, first responder firefighter.

"This is Inferno," Stormwing introduced the larger mech.

"How may I help?" Dai Atlas asked, nearly demanded, as he came in for a hard but precise landing.

"Is your armor fire resistant?" the firefighter asked.

"It's top-grade military," Dai Atlas nodded. "I can walk into a generator and survive."

"That's going to be nearly as bad," Inferno said grimly. "Maybe worse. There are mecha trapped inside. Help me get to them."

"I will," Dai Atlas nodded, all his military training and combat protocols kicking in at once. Inferno was his commander and this was a battle. It was time to move.

Inferno nodded shortly, seeing no need for wasting time on talk when there were mecha trapped inside the burning, slowly collapsing wreckage. He headed right for the nearest entrance into the factory, a gaping hole with smoke pouring out of it. "This facility was in full production. Most of the workers were on shift and the wreckage collapsed on top of them."

"Just point me at what needs to be moved," Dai Atlas assured him, already reaching for a beam blocking their way to break it.

"Just be careful that moving something won't bring something else down on top of us." Inferno gauged the debris critically. "The last thing we need is to end up buried ourselves." He waited for Dai Atlas to remove the beam, then led the way deeper into the factory. Metal creaked and groaned over their helms, dust and ash sifting down to coat their armor. Flames licked out at them, quickly dealt with by Inferno's foam cannon. The heat was intense.

"Understood," Dai Atlas said, his processors seeing a battlefield rather than a factory. The fire, the death, destruction and danger. In a way, it felt good to be on such familiar ground again. He trusted his armor and tactical computers. He'd be fine.

In some places the rubble choked off access to the deeper parts of the factory. Inferno helped clear as much as possible, judging how much of the strain load each piece of debris supported before moving it. Some pieces he warned Dai Atlas away from, and on several occasions they had to find alternate routes to get in deeper.

As they approached the main production area, the screams and cries of the trapped mecha became audible over the groans of stressed metal and the roar of the flames.

Dai Atlas spat a series of curses, a couple words of which Inferno even recognized as Cybertronian, though the gist of the commentary was clear enough.

The firefighter gave his companion an impressed look as they made their way toward the first trapped mecha, almost completely buried under a pile of wreckage and pleading for help. He'd heard some inventive swearing before, but nothing quite like that. "Let's get this mech out of here." Grabbing a chunk of debris, he began hauling it away, dropping it in a clearer area so there was no chance of accidentally burying another mecha under it.

Dai Atlas put his frame into the effort, showing that he had the strength his frame indicated and then quite a bit. "Never thought I'd regret giving up my heavy weapons," he muttered as the first of the workers were freed.

"Energy weapons would do more harm than good in a mess like this," Inferno pointed out as he heaved a chunk of what looked to have been a catwalk off another trapped mech. "This place is unstable enough as it is. One wrong move could bring the whole thing down on top of us."

Other rescue workers were coming in behind them, taking each freed mech outside as the two big mechs dug them out of the wreckage. Most were horribly burned or crushed. Some were visibly only barely alive, their frames already showing unhealthy amounts of gray.

"I had enough firepower to open this up to the sky in one round. Makes evac safer and simpler," Dai Atlas said simply as he freed a mech nearly as large as himself and almost completely gray. Only a few flickers of power still lit his optics as he whispered, pleading for forgiveness. With a small shudder Dai Atlas began to hum, his voice kept quiet and focused on the mech he'd freed.

"Still dangerous," Inferno replied. He paused, looking over at Dai Atlas, wondering what was going on. The mech the priest had pulled from the rumble had no chance, and it looked like all three of them knew it. Yet Dai Atlas was doing _something_ he considered more important than rescuing the next mecha that might live.

A cry for help dragged Inferno's attention back to his job. The red mech made his way toward the cry, shoving chunks of debris out of the way and tossing other chunks onto the "safe" pile. "Hold on! I've almost got you out!"

He had the mech, who was missing both legs, pulled free when he noticed that Dai Atlas was back at work on the debris, the mech he'd been singing to fully gray and deactivated.

Inferno gave Dai Atlas a sideways look. Now was not the time to say anything, but when they were finished, the firefighter wanted to know what the big blue mech had been doing. Ruffling his armor slightly, Inferno handed the mech he'd just dug out to the rescue crew, moving on to the next. He kept a sensor on Dai Atlas as they continued to work, noting seven more times when the giant paused to sing to the dying, and also noting that he hadn't exaggerated the quality of his armor. The heat would melt a priest to their spark chamber, but Dai Atlas didn't even have badly scorched paint. When a beam fell, he took the strike, protecting a trapped worker without hesitation or even flinching.

Watching Dai Atlas singing to those dying and beyond help was making Inferno very curious. The firefighter wanted badly to know what was going on, barely keeping his curiosity contained as they worked in relative silence to clear the survivors.

"That's everyone," Inferno announced joors later.

Dai Atlas paused, focusing inward, and shook his helm. "There are three more, over there," he pointed to a place with no signs of life that Inferno could detect.

Inferno paused, looking from Dai Atlas to the indicated area and back. "I'm not detecting anything... How do you know there is anyone over there?" Blue optics narrowed slightly at the larger mech.

"It's my gift," he said simply, singing his designation in full even as he began working towards the spot. "Primus granted me the ability to feel all sparks and tend to them. There are three sparks there that have not departed yet."

The firefighter stared at him for a long moment. "That has something to do with what you were doing with the dying?" He followed Dai Atlas toward the indicated spot, moving debris out of the way.

"I can draw the negative emotions from a spark, giving them peace," he explained as he began to dig for a mecha he could feel. "Those were pleading for forgiveness before they returned to Primus. I granted it."

Comprehension lit blue optics. "Ah, I see." He glanced toward the hole where they'd entered the factory. "Considering the conditions of some of the mecha we've pulled out of here, there might be more of that for you to do outside." Shifting slightly, Inferno grunted as he grabbed a chunk of fallen ceiling, heaving it out of the way to reveal a slender pink leg.

"I know," Dai Atlas said grimly as he revealed a white face and soft yellow helm charred mostly black.

Inferno winced at the mangled state of the mecha they'd found. Part of the wall and a massive chunk of ceiling had fallen in that area, taking with it some of the manufacturing machinery. He had to be amazed that anyone had managed to last this long trapped under that.

"Primus has plans for them," Dai Atlas said simply as he freed the yellow and white mech. "No other way dock workers would last this long. Especially that femme."

"That is true." Inferno shoved a piece of machinery off the femme after making sure the place he shoved the debris into was free of trapped mecha. Another chunk of ceiling pinned the femme in place; removing it made it possible to carefully extract her from the slag pile. One of the other rescue workers scuttled over to take her.

Dai Atlas gave her a glance, then focused on digging out the last of the three, a red and blue mech the same average size as his yellow and white companion. "This one got sparked in the wrong line of work."

"How so?" Inferno moved over to help, shoving a piece of collapsed wall out of the way.

"A spark this strong and empathetic has better things to do than move freight into transports," Dai Atlas said, humming a soothing tone as the red and blue mech abruptly appeared on Inferno's sensors.

"I wasn't detecting him before, but I am now." Inferno began helping Dai Atlas free the blue and red mech.

"He's ... I don't know how to describe it ... but _he's_ decided he's not ready to leave," Dai Atlas tried to explain. "Pull him out when I get the beam up," he shifted to put his shoulder under a beam that would lift a large section of machinery.

"Gotcha." Inferno reached down to take firm hold of the pinned mech. "Ready when you are."

A small nod and Dai Atlas heaved his frame upward, clearing an unsteady stack of debris from the crushed worker. "Hurry," he hissed under the strain.

As soon as the debris was out of the way, Inferno quickly pulled the mech out from under it. "I got him!"

The crash of the debris made the floor rattle for a moment as two other rescue workers came forward to gently take the crushed mech outside, to the small army of medics waiting outside. Inferno vented heavily, then looked over at Dai Atlas. "Is there anyone else?"

He turned off his optics and focused on his spark and the ability to map all the sparks around him. He normally did it on reflex, much as most mecha used their proximity sensors, now he put all his attention on it.

"No," Dai Atlas eventually said. "There may be empty frames with traces of spark energy, but nothing with a spark."

"Another team will be coming in to retrieve the deactivated once all the fires are out. Our priority was the living." Inferno reached over to lightly swat at Dai Atlas' shoulder. "Let's get out of here."

The larger mech nodded and quickly followed the firefighter out. He had a _long_ orn ahead of him in the medical tents, but that too was a familiar thing. He always walked among his injured soldiers after a battle.

Once outside, Inferno paused, looking back toward the smoldering factory, then looked over to Dai Atlas. "Now I go from rescue to firefighting." He gave the big triple changer a friendly clap on the shoulder. "It was nice working with you. You can be on my rescue team anytime." Inclining his helm with a grin, Inferno headed off to where a group of other firefighters were preparing to tackle the fires still raging in another section of the factory.

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The sound of jet engines echoed through the temple grounds, bringing curious residents out to look for the source. Three airframes were descending toward the main courtyard, flying in precise formation. In the lead was a glossy ebony and gold jet, flanked by one of deep purple and a much smaller shape of gleaming white. They maintained their formation as they descended, aiming for a landing in the main courtyard.

After centuries apart, the rest of Dai Atlas' family had decided to come for a visit. It would be the first time they had seen him in many vorns.

~Love,~ Dai Atlas greeted the other half of his spark with intense affection as he stepped out of the building and prepared to take off to greet them.

The white jet immediately bolted out of formation, darting straight down toward Dai Atlas. Wing transformed on the fly, retaining just enough processor space to slow down before landing right on the much bigger mech. His loud, excited trill was audible even over the sound of engines. Axe, about to respond to his mate, burst out laughing so hard he almost fell out of the air when Dai Atlas crashed flat on his aft and nearly his wings from the impact of their elder creation. Next to him Sheerwing slid sideways, shaking in mirth.

"Wing!" Dai Atlas roared in laughter as he hugged his excited creation.

"Dai! I missed you!" Wing was almost vibrating as he clung to the larger mech's frame, wings wiggling against Dai Atlas' arm. He was purring so hard his armor rattled.

The priests couldn't help staring for a long moment, more than a few smiling or chuckling at the enthusiastic greeting. Axe managed to touch down fairly neatly, walking over to his mate and extending a hand to help the larger mech back to his pedes. ~He's spent the last couple of orns flitting about as if he were overcharged,~ the black and gold mech sent through the bond, amusement coating the words.

"Some things never change," Sheerwing grinned, amusement sparkling in his pale red optics as his carrier settled on his pedes once more with Wing firmly attached to his chest plate. "You'd think he was a sparkling."

"So much for being on his best behavior," Axe snorted, reaching out to tease a white wingtip. "Might need a pry-bar to get him off later." The black and gold mech stepped forward, wrapping his arms around his mate and the white jet latched onto him. ~We all missed you so much, love.~

~I've missed everyone greatly as well,~ Dai Atlas murmured, wrapping an arm around Axe and glancing at Sheerwing with his other open.

With a smile his second surviving creation joined the family embrace, still careful of having anyone touch Shadows of the Fire that rested on his back. "You've been missed, carrier."

"By all of us, though Wing shows it most clearly." Axe rested his helm against Dai Atlas'. He glanced around at the curious priests, all maintaining a respectful distance, most of them smiling. ~Is there place we can sit and talk without much of an audience?~

~Yes. They have been most generous with my quarters,~ he smiled and kissed his mate on the chevron before urging the embrace to break up so they could walk. ~They moved a couple extra berths into the living room so the youngsters can recharge there, if you don't have a hotel in the city.~

~We'd much rather stay with you,~ Axe replied, reluctantly peeling himself away from Dai Atlas. ~Though Wing is probably going to recharge on you.~ He smiled at the white jet, who had yet to even loosen his grip on Dai Atlas' chest plate and was still purring. Wing, as if somehow knowing that Axe had been talking about him, turned his helm to give the black and gold mech a wide-opticked innocent look.

~I'm sure he wants to, but _I_ want to recharge with _you_,~ Dai Atlas rumbled, a reminder of just how long he'd been without a lover. "Everyone remember the rules. I can not take time off because you are here."

"We know," Sheerwing nodded, following slightly behind the more tactile group with a sense of dignity born of discomfort with the behavior.

~It might take all three of us to pry him off,~ Axe noted, eying the grip Wing had on Dai Atlas' armor.

~If we can't, we'll just have to have our reunion with him between us,~ Dai Atlas teased.

"I remember," Wing chirped, tilting his helm to look up at his creator.

"I'll make sure they remember," Axe added as they reached the door to Dai Atlas quarters.

The black and gold Knight laughed through the bond. ~That would be slightly awkward... Hopefully there will be some way to pry him off.~ He tweaked Wing's audial flare, then turned his attention to inspecting Dai Atlas' quarters. "Nice, and big."

"Titan had something to do with it," Dai Atlas chuckled and motioned everyone to sit. "I'm afraid I do not have energon to offer, but we can relax here."

"Why am I not surprised." Axe settled onto the couch, waiting until Dai Atlas settled, then sidling over to lean against him. Wing loosened his grip enough to settle into the blue mech's lap before clamping down again. "He's been looking after you in one way or another for most of your existence; I hardly expect him to stop now."

"Very true," Dai Atlas smiled. ~You wanted to talk about something?~

~I prefer to catch up with you without a large audience,~ Axe replied. "How is your training going?"

"Very well, I believe," he smiled and tipped Axe's face up for a kiss. "I can use my gift for minor grief and guilt without tearing myself apart, or even alerting you. Did you hear about the factory explosion nearby a few vorns back?"

Axe returned the kiss, pride flowing along the bond. "I am glad to hear that the training is helping relive the effects using your gift has on you. Yes, we know about the explosion. The Citadel keeps track of all the Knights who are out and about, on walkabout or otherwise, and Wing has been glued to the monitors."

"There were twelve who felt relief that orn, and I'm reasonably sure you didn't feel it," Dai Atlas said with obvious pride at the accomplishment. "I recharged when it was over without nightmares or needing oblivion. It was _good_."

"No, I did not feel it." Axe practically glowed with pride.

Wing chirped. "I'm so glad the training is helping." He had seen the power of Dai Atlas' gift, and had seen the toll it took on him. The one spark merge he'd had with his creator had also shown him what the much larger mech endured.

"Will you be coming home soon, then?" Sheerwing asked, his wings flicking hopefully.

"I do not think so," Dai Atlas shook his helm. "I'm over half finished with the studies, but there is much left to learn. I intend to take full advantage of this opportunity."

Wing made a soft sound of disappointment, clinging tighter. Axe lifted a hand to rub his mate's shoulder lightly. "Take as long as you need, love. When you do choose to come home, Wing will latch onto you and not come off for orns, and the rest of the Citadel will celebrate your return."

"As will I," he murmured, leaning in for another kiss. "And I am afraid I need to recharge." ~And have a _little_ time with my mate.~ "Mornings are early here."

"I can imagine." Axe nodded. He eyed Wing for a moment. "Let's see if we can get Cybertron's cutest cyber-barnacle off of your armor."

Wing huffed, fluffing his armor.

"_We_ are going to have mate-time," Dai Atlas said firmly, even though his field was full of tolerant amusement. "I don't think you want to be _there_ when we play."

Wing pouted, turning wide golden optics on Dai Atlas. Axe laughed at him, shifting around to get a better grip, sliding his fingers behind a white audial flare. The white jet immediately melted. ~You pet him, I'll detach him,~ the black and gold mech told his mate, laughter accompanying the words.

With his own rumbling laughter Dai Atlas began to stroke between Wing's wings, turning the defiant barnacle into a puddle of purring white metal.

"Which means I have to keep him company," Sheerwing huffed, though the cant of his wings suggested he didn't mind nearly as much as he put on.

"Works every time," Axe chuckled as he pried Wing loose, lifting the almost limp white jet away from his mate's plating. Turning, he placed Wing on Sheerwing's lap, patting their younger creation's elegant helm.

Sheerwing scowled at his creator, but his field was full of amusement at Wing and affection as he watched his carrier pull Axe towards the berthroom.

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More centuries passed. It had been a long and sometimes difficult path, especially when it meant that Dai Atlas was away from his mate and creations for a very long time.

Stormwing, the High Priest and temple leader of the Temple of Primus in Tyger Pax, approached Dai Atlas, white optics meeting red. "You have completed your training, Dai Atlas."

Wide white and blue wings flicked in partial surprise and very real relief. "Thank you." ~Love, I am done.~

The priest raised a hand, his gaze solemn. "Before you leave, there will be one final test of your power and your control."

Dai Atlas inclined his wings in acceptance. "What must I do?"

"You will prove your control by using your gift to heal, or trying to heal, a mech." Stormwing eased closer. "The mech is former military turned criminal, with uncontrollable post-traumatic stress, looking at complete reformatting."

Dai Atlas twitch, a mostly-controlled flinch at the fate. "I will do my best."

The High Priest patted his arm gently. "I know you will." Red armor ruffled slightly. "Arrangements are already in progress. You will be summoned when it is time."

"I will be ready," Dai Atlas promised before turning to the central crystal garden of the temple to meditate until it was time. ~One final test and I will be coming home.~

Warmth reached back through the bond. ~I'll have the hot oil pool and the high grade ready for you, my love. And a good pry-bar, because you _know_ Wing is going to be attached to your armor as soon as you're in reach.~

Stormwing nodded formally, then left to see to the preparations.

~Just make sure his current lover is free to pick him up when we stroke the off switch,~ he laughed brightly, thoughts full of just what he had planned for Axe as soon as they managed to extract Wing from their quarters.

Axe purred. ~I'll make sure of that, love.~ His thoughts brushed against Dai Atlas' in the non-physical version of a kiss that was returned warmly before the bond was dimmed so Dai Atlas could focus on his meditation in preparation to save a mech from reformatting.

It was a couple of joors before Stormwing reappeared, walking through the crystal garden. He was in full formal mode as he approached Dai Atlas, stopping a short distance away. "It is time."

Deep red optics glowed to life before Dai Atlas stood with precisely control grace as he instinctively responded to the formality by matching it. "I am ready."

The High Priest inclined his helm. "Come." He led the way to the main courtyard, where several other priests waited. "The healing will take place at the prison itself; the prisoner is too dangerous to be brought out for any reason."

"I understand," Dai Atlas responded, ready to take off for the flight when signaled to.

Stormwing took to the air, the other priests following. They settled into a V-formation, Dai Atlas in the center for the short flight to the primary spaceport of Tyger Pax. Though Dai Atlas was well able to reach the smaller of Cybertron's two moons and the maximum security prison there, it was an extremely long flight for the smaller fliers with him, and a use of energy that was better saved for the task awaiting him there.

A small shuttle awaited them at the spaceport, bearing prison markings. The prison was restricted airspace, so only shuttles and transports registered there were permitted to come or go. The group boarded, slow and one by one, as their identities were checked and each was confirmed to be unarmed. While Strength of Conviction was glared at, Stormwing quietly but firmly reminded the guard that the artifact was under special permit and was allowed to pass.

When all of them were seated and strapped in, the guard nod to the pilot that they were ready for take-off. The three joor flight was silent, each mecha occupied with their own thoughts and prayers. In Dai Atlas's case it was spent kneeling, Strength of Conviction on his lap, and deep in centering meditation. He knew all too well what was awaiting them.

Deep inside personal demons were gnawing at him, reminding him that the last time he attempted this he had failed miserably.

The prison had part of the moon's surface all to itself, the moonscape perfectly smooth for miles in every direction to provide clear lines of fire in case of any escapes. The complex itself was built like a fortress, with thick walls and heavily armed guards on constant patrol. Off to one side was the landing pad, with two other shuttles already there. Just outside the landing pad on the path to the prison stood the warden, a heavily armored black mech with a yellow visor that stood as tall as Axe did and even heavier built as nothing of his tank-alt had been sacrificed for flight capability.

"I had wondered what he was assigned to now," Dai Atlas murmured to himself as they disembarked.

"Welcome to Moonbase One," the warden said with cool formality. "The prisoner is waiting for you."

"Thank you, Colonel Turmoil," Dai Atlas exchanged a momentary steady look with Turmoil before the warden turned to lead them inside.

The priests fell in behind the black mech, Stormwing settling next to Dai Atlas. Guards eyed them as they passed, armor bristling as they spotted the Great Sword Dai Atlas carried, though none of them said anything about it. Prisoners glared out of cells or through barriers, calling insults and vulgarities. The priests ignored the yelling, though they stayed in the center of the corridors to be out of spitting range.

It was not lost on a single priest, or a single resident, that Dai Atlas was not only unflustered by the insults and threats, but was not disturbed by them in the least. When they reached the deactivation row lockdown, it was a very different scene. The mecha here were largely sullen, broken to the point they accepted their fate and that it was near an end.

Baleful optics glared at them from the depths of the cells, the prisoners not even bothering to get up. The priests kept watchful optics on the watchers, staying well away from them.

The ultra-security holding cells were located just past the deactivation row section. Several guards, massive, heavily-armed mecha, stood around the door. Their optics snapped toward the approaching group.

"Open it," Turmoil ordered, his voice level and nearly devoid of emotion.

One of the guards nodded. Weapons were trained on the door as it was opened.

Inside was a heavily-built mech, deep green with gray and black trim. Red optics glared back at the guards, a look that clearly stated that he would gladly rend any one of them limb from limb if he could. Maximum-security stasis restrains bound his arms and legs. He was immobilized as surely as if he'd been placed in medical stasis, only fully aware of time and surroundings.

As far as Dai Atlas was concerned it was a fate far worse than deactivation, reformatting or anything else.

"Prisoner P-R-56438-895226748," Turmoil stated.

"What was his designation?" Dai Atlas asked simply, taking in this mech on every level.

The warden looked at him in disgust at he would grant such a thing to a prisoner, but he answered anyway. "Backblast."

Dai Atlas nodded. "You may leave. Watch on the monitors if you wish. I am capable of dealing with him if need be."

"As you wish," Turmoil grunted and turned on one heel, leaving Dai Atlas and the priests in the room with the psychopathic monster the military had created.

Backblast's optics narrowed as he looked the group over. The priests he dismissed as easy prey, no threat. It was Dai Atlas whom the psychopath focused on.

"So. You're the one who's apparently going to try to 'heal' me." There was mockery in the prisoner's voice.

"That is the purpose of my being here," Dai Atlas acknowledged. "If I can not put your spark and processors to right, the reformatters are who you will see next." He considered Backblast. "Would you prefer that? To forget everything and become a newly sparked mech."

Backblast shifted slightly, his restraints rattling. "You can try your little mystic mumbo-jumbo games with me, but I doubt it'll work much better than anything else that's been tried on me." He bared his dentas.

Dai Atlas nodded and focused inward, to his spark and to his gift. His voice rose, the sounds a chant in a language even Prima had only distant memories of; the language of Primus himself.

Backblast scoffed, smirking at the big blue triple changer. He was certain that this would be like the other attempts at rehabilitating that had already been tried on him. All show and no substance.

Within a few kliks, the prisoner lost his smirk, feeling something actually happening. His spark began to pulse in time with the chant, in time with the beat of the singer's, and deep down he knew it now pulsed in synch with Primus'. Tiny wisps of something alien flickered in his spark, sensations he couldn't put designation to.

The green mech squirmed uneasily, his restraints rattling. Red optics flared as Backblast glared suspiciously at Dai Atlas. "What are you doing?"

"This is my gift," Dai Atlas said softly. "I absolve others of pain, grief, anger, loss ... I can heal the spark."

Backblast's lip curled, and he spat at Dai Atlas' pedes. "Make-believe holy slag." He flexed his arms, pulling at his restraints.

Instead of arguing Dai Atlas returned to his chanting hum and the flickers of alien sensation in Backblast's spark became more numerous, then began to coalesce.

Backblast squirmed as much as his restraints would allow. It was _not_ a comfortable feeling at all. "Stop it!"

"That is no longer your right to command," Stormwing spoke instead of Dai Atlas. "He is saving you from reformatting, and quite possibly the smelter. Is that not worth some discomfort?"

The prisoner tried to lunge forward, his restraints bringing him up short. One of the younger priests flinched, but the others didn't even twitch. "I said stop!"

He was completely ignored this time as Dai Atlas' voice increased in volume, the song stripping out memories and sensations that were the foundation of Backblast's very sense of self.

Backblast thrashed, letting out a rough cry. Red optics flared nearly white. This felt alien, wrong. He didn't like it at all. He was only distantly aware of Dai Atlas stepping forward to place a spread hand over Backblast's spark, channeling the energy of his gift through touch, but also sharing his very personal and intimate understanding of what Backblast was going through.

The former military mech turned to pull away, hissing. He felt weird. More than weird. It was unnerving. He felt like the layers of his mind and spark were being stripped away, baring something that he did not want to face.

~The distress is worth it, brother,~ Dai Atlas' voice came across their mingled fields and physical contact. ~The pain will end this time without crippling you.~

~Stop it!~ Backblast yelled back. ~Leave me alone!~ He fought harder to get away, but got nowhere. The green mech was forced to stay still and endure what was happening. Red optics widened, unseeing.

~I cannot. If you still wish to be reformatted or smelted when I am done, it is your right,~ Dai Atlas told him, focusing more of Primus' power through his spark and frame and into his subject. It was sickening to force this on another, though not anywhere as bad as it was to use it as a weapon. He knew, deep down, that reformatting would be a mercy to this spark, but he could not stop. As he said, reformatting could happen later.

That alien feeling began to close in around Backblast's spark, drawing another cry from him. His frame twitched and jerked. He could feel the change as a power far greater than he was began to reformat him fully awake, aware and struggling to retain what he was. He _remembered_ everything he was, everything he'd experienced, all that made him what he was, and yet its grip on him and his grip on himself fell further away with each klik that passed under Dai Atlas' focus.

Backblast managed a rasping scream, optics flaring blindly as that power washed through him, seeking out the hatred and the anger that drove him. He felt as if he were burning from the inside out and yet he could find nothing inside him to fight with. Old memories of when he'd been newly sparked, before his first battle, flickered up to explain the way he felt.

Before the pain. Before the anger. Before _loss_.

Backblast went limp, slumping forward, vents rasping. It was gone, all the pain and rage. He felt ... off balance. Like something was missing.

~A great deal is missing, brother,~ Dai Atlas felt himself trembling from another lifetime of agony and violence taken on as his own. ~All that Primus objects to is gone. You may exist as a free mecha now, free to choose your own path and not the one inflicted upon you.~

~It feels... too strange. Off balance, off kilter.~ The green mech trembled, red optics flickering. His restraints rattled as he shifted in his chair.

~It will feel natural in time, once you have adapted to existence without pain,~ Dai Atlas promised.

Backblast made a sound low in his throat, slowly straightening in the chair. He stared up at Dai Atlas for a long moment, processors lost in the effort to try and absorb what had just been done to him.

Stormwing shifted slightly, tilting his helm toward the blue Knight, hoping for some sign that it was over and if it had worked. Dai Atlas remained fixated on his subject, his vocalization reduced to a soft, soothing hum as he felt Backblast work through the fundamental change in his spark and emotional state.

Green armor trembled. Backblast made a soft keening sound, slumping backward. This adjustment was not going to be easy; it would still be some time before he could be reintroduced to society, but he was no longer dangerous.

"He may still choose an easy path, though doubt it," Dai Atlas said quietly, without any true sense of accomplishment in the task. His spark ached, sick at forcing his gift on another as much as what he'd taken on. "The healing worked."

The High Priest nodded to him, then turned to loom at the guards just outside the cell. "The healing is over. It was successful."

"A song reformed him?" Turmoil's golden visor glinted with disbelief.

"No," Dai Atlas said tiredly, still shaking faintly and immensely grateful that they had a shuttle for the flight back. "The song is simply how I learned to connect with those I affect with my gift. Primus uses me as a conduit to take the pain, loss, grief, anger and insanity from the spark of those I heal. He must still learn how to function in society. It is only the rage and madness that is no more."

"Those restraints are no longer necessary." Stormwing touched Dai Atlas' arm lightly. "My fellow priests, Dai Atlas and myself will be returning to Cybertron."

Turmoil looked almost too stunned to respond, but he nodded after a moment. "I will show you to the shuttle."

The flight back to Cybertron had been spent in silence, as had the short flight back to the temple. Once the group touched down, the other priests scattered into the complex, leaving only Dai Atlas and Stormwing.

The High Priest laid his hand lightly on a dark forearm, looking up at the larger mech. "I will have energon sent to your quarters. Go and rest. Once you are ready, you may begin your journey home."

"Thank you," the giant let his frame relax slightly. "For everything. I will see you before I leave."

Stormwing smiled, inclining his helm. "You are most welcome. I will be here when you are ready."

With that Dai Atlas returned to his quarters and settled in, not for recharge, but for the simplest of bindings that he could do on his own. With his wrists on the hook above Strength of Conviction's pommel he allowed his helm to sink forward to rest against the brilliant, glowing yellow gem and surrendered himself completely to the state.

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The entire population of the Citadel seemed to have gathered in the main courtyard of the Citadel when Dai Atlas returned. Wing was a white flicker darting around the towers, almost vibrating as much as he was flying. Axe was also aloft, darting out to greet his mate before the rest of the Knights. They all remained respectfully grounded, watching the bonded pair dance in an airborne greeting of affection and display of their coordination. Slightly further out from their creations, one that _looked_ like they did and the other a tiny blur of white, greeted their returning creator.

~I've _missed_ you,~ Dai Atlas nearly moaned when Axe brushed close enough for their fields to touch.

~I've missed you, too, very much,~ Axe replied, sneaking close enough for his wingtip to almost brush Dai Atlas. Their fields reached out and caressed, exchanging sensations and emotions.

Wing darted and spiraled around the pair, chirring and trilling. His field reached out to touch the blue giant's, warm, welcoming and full of excitement. The brush he received in reply was just as happy at the reunion.

Slower to join the dance, both out of respect for his creators' reunion and a lingering distaste for public display, Sheerwing eventually slid by to caress his field by Dai Atlas as well.

~The whole Citadel has gathered to welcome you home... But after they're done with you, and we can pry Wing off, I have _plans_,~ Axe purred.

Wing was a blur of motion, darting and dancing, weaving around his creators and younger brother. He was moving fast enough that he was nearly a blur.

Dai Atlas quivered at the tone of his mate and abruptly tipped his nose to space. ~Come dance with me.~

Axe eagerly followed, Wing peeling off as if sensing what they were up to. The little white jet returned to buzzing excitedly around the Citadel towers while the two much older mechs headed for the heights of the atmosphere.

Sheerwing transformed as he set down smoothly, only to find himself caught in the embrace of his lover, the first mecha to share his berth that could also command him. The large blue and black Kaonite Aerial wrapped his arms around Sheerwing, purring roughly in his audial, idly, teasingly, stroking his fingertips over Sheerwing's armor seams. Blue-tipped black wings flared behind Kaleidoscope's back as the armorer glanced up toward the dancing mecha. "Any chance they'll be noticing anything but each other tonight?"

"Tonight, tomorrow, most of the next," Sheerwing shivered, his frame submitting in a way he never thought he could to the smaller mech.

Kaleidoscope smiled devilishly up at his taller lover. "Then I've got you all to myself."

"Yes," Sheerwing breathed, his wings quivering as he willingly allowed himself to be dragged to his quarters.

Far above Dai Atlas slowed and turned, offering himself to the mech chasing him as he did for no other. Axe swirled around his mate before closing in, wrapping his arms around the larger mech. ~Beloved.~

~My love,~ Dai Atlas moaned as their mouths met in a fierce kiss fueled by a too long absence and passion that had never cooled.

Axe returned the kiss, sneaking his fingers into a seam along Dai Atlas' shoulders. ~Want you so bad. _Need_ you.~

~Mutual,~ Dai Atlas trembled from crown to pedetips as he unlocked his chest plates. ~Please...~

Blue light flared as Axe opened his chestplates, his spark glowing brightly in its casing. Threads of blue light crawled across the crystalline casing, waiting to be released so they could reach out and twine with threads of red. ~Of course, beloved.~

With no more hesitation spark chambers spiraled open to release their prisoners to a joyful reunion. The physical world fell away for the mates as everything narrowed to the universe in their sparks and the bliss of renewing their bond.


	17. Training the Next Generation

Fandom: Transformers G1  
Author: gatekat, ultrarodimus on LJ  
Pairing: Axe/Dai Atlas, Wing/Lightwing  
Rating: NC-17  
Codes: Slash, Historical Setting, Knights of Light, Sticky, First Time, Seals  
Disclaimer: The authors are only playing with their own twisted muses. Transformers belong to Hasbro. Fandom-side, check the inspirations page (gatekat-fics .livejournal 290 .html). We draw from a ton of amazing stories and authors you should read.

Kneeling to the Sword 17: Training the Next Generation  
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"Just how long are you going to tease that poor mech?" Axe chuckled as he watched Wing play teasing wings with a most unusual looking mech that was new to the Citadel. Though both normal sized mecha were doing chores and Axe was supervising the Supplicants in the main courtyard, they both had time to check out all the new arrivals for potential Initiates. That one new arrival, black, red and white in nearly equal measure with a facemask and orange optics would have been a looker even if that was all that was unusual about him. It was his outer wings that kept grabbing attention. A matching orange to his optics and the single swept-back spike on his helm, they seemed to be made more of light than metal, and he was aggressively protective of allowing contact with the structures.

Wing fluttered and wiggled his wings over at the new mech, chirring softly. "As long as I have to." The white jet smiled brightly up at his creator, fluffing his armor slightly. Looking back to the new mech, he gave an intricate little flutter-wiggle, then stretched out one wing, quivering it.

There wasn't a flier in optic range that didn't know _exactly_ what Wing was doing, or how successful he was in attracting and keeping his target's attention. And everyone else's.

Axe just shook his helm and laughed. "You know he can't do more than flirt back for _joors_, especially with me standing right here watching."

It wasn't lost on the big black and gold mech when the unique orange beams that made up Lightwing's lower wings flickered, then fluttered back in a spread and closing motion unique to the elite of the Praxian tri-wing frames.

Wing grinned. "I know." White wings wiggled through a figure eight, folding and flaring. Gold optics watched Lightwing with bright interest, his field making no particular secret of the fact that he was going to track Lightwing down later.

"Think you're going to keep this one for long, or are you just looking to pet those wings?" Axe teased, watching the young Praxian flirt back with his wings while trying to get his work done as well.

"I don't know yet." Playful golden optics glowed at Lightwing. "But I'm looking forward to when his shift finally ends."

Axe hummed, then got an evil glint in his optics as he turned to walk over to the Praxian, the newest Supplicant in the barracks.

White wings flared, arching up and pausing. "What are you doing?"

Axe smiled mysteriously back at the white mech. "Nothing dangerous."

Across the courtyard Lightwing twitched when he saw Axe turn towards him and forced himself to stop looking at Wing to focus on his duties. He would _not_ upset the Knight assigned to oversee the Supplicants that orn.

Wing's wings twitched, then folded to his back again. Crossing his arms over his chestplate, the white jet watched his black-armored creator walk toward the Supplicant Wing had been flirting with.

"Lightwing," Axe greeted, casually watching over to the black red, and white mech.

"Senior Knight Axe," the slender mech dipped his wings and helm politely, once more giving away that he'd been raised a noble Praxian.

"You've been here, what, a little under a metacycle?" Axe settled into a casual stance, tilting his helm at the smaller mech. "What do you think of life in the Citadel so far?"

"Yes, sir. Seven and a half decaorn tomorrow," he responded promptly, his wings still held in a tight salute. "It's good to finally be here. The work is hard, but nothing I haven't done before."

That got Lightwing an odd look. Axe was aware of the lifestyles and habits of the nobles, and work generally wasn't something nobles concerned themselves with. Black armor ruffled slightly. "I couldn't help noting your flirting with Wing."

Lightwing barely contained the flinch. "I was flirting back with Wing."

"I'm well aware that Wing started it. My creation is the most open flirt in the Citadel." Axe tilted his helm slightly to the side. At this range it was impossible to miss how nervous, nearly afraid, Lightwing was, but it had the feel of a newly sparked soldier meeting their General for the first time rather than fear of Axe himself.

"So I have been told, sir," Lightwing responded. "Should I not respond to his advances?"

"Wing is nearly impossible to resist. I'm not trying to stop you from responding. I'd never hear the end of it if I tried." Blue optics shifted to take in the white jet that was still glaring at him. Slender white wings moved in a blatant 'if you chase him off I'll hurt you' flick. Axe noted with an amused smile that orange beams flicked in a reassuring signal back and Lightwing relaxed slightly when Wing did.

"Am I doing the work wrong?" Lightwing sought a reason he was being spoken to.

"You're doing fine." Axe gave the smaller mech a friendly clap on the shoulder, slightly staggering Lightwing. "Wing fully intends to continue the flirting. Have fun. But don't hurt him." That said, the black giant ambled off, back over to where Wing was standing.

"Did you _really_ need to give him the creator talk?" Wing rolled his optics. "Do you have _any_ idea how hard it was to get him to stop hiding?"

"Just looking out for you." Axe reached over to tweak an audial fin tip.

Wing muttered something under his breath, but his field was warm with affection as he focused on flirting with Lightwing again and getting the mech good and keyed up before Wing picked him up.

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Wing had been watching Lightwing all orn, flirting with him and getting him as wound up as possible, much to the amusement of his creator. The white jet had been eagerly awaiting the end of Lightwing's shift, and now that it finally was over, he sauntered over to the red, black, and white mech.

White and orange wings fluttered, uncertain again but welcoming the higher ranked mech.

"Don't mind Axe... He's just being overprotective." Wing stepped closer, wiggling his wings. One wingtip stretched out to brush Lightwing's arm. The field there was nervous, too nervous for one who was really interested.

"I'm used to overprotective creators, Sir," Lightwing inclined his helm to Wing, relaxing fractionally at the feel of his field. "Mine are both warriors."

Wing smiled. "Call me Wing. The Initiates I've trained can tell you I'm not one for formality." His field reached out, warm and inviting. It was met with uncertainty, nervousness and an easy acceptance that didn't feel completely right.

"Yes, Wing," Lightwing responded even as he valiantly tried to control a jolt of almost desperate hope.

White audial fins spread in curious interest, Wing's field reaching out even more to lightly merge with Lightwing's. Slender wings fluttered out, flickering and fluttering slightly, flirting again. Desire trickled into the white jet's field where it merged with Lightwing's.

Arousal answered back with a flirting flick of orange beams, yet to Wing the arousal felt _wrong_. Tilting his helm, Wing regarded his companion. He'd never felt arousal like that before, and he had lain with many mecha. The white jet wasn't sure what to make of it. Mentally shrugging, Wing decided to just go ahead and ask. "Have you ever had a partner before?"

"No, Wing," Lightwing shook his helm, his wings pulling in slightly and field becoming tightly controlled to give away nothing.

That explained it. Wing's wings twitched for a moment, his audial fins flaring slightly. Gold optics met orange for the nanoklik before the orange pair flicked away in submission. "Would you like to have one?" His field stretched out to lightly brush against Lightwing's, trying to get a better gauge of the mech's real state. It was a futile effort. Someone had taught him very well to control what his field and frame expressed.

There was a moment's hesitation before Lightwing nodded.

Wing's smile was bright and warm. He extended his hand to Lightwing, fluttering his wings, brushing his field encouragingly against the Praxian's. Lightwing's field warmed with arousal, even if it was that strange feeling kind to Wing, as he accepted Wing's hand. Orange optics glanced up, uncertain and looking for a hint about what to do.

The white jet gently tugged Lightwing after him, leading the red-black-white mech to Wing's quarters. "You've never interfaced before?" Wing asked as he coded open his door, gently tugging Lightwing inside.

The slender, elegant Aerial shook his helm. "I've always been too busy for it."

Wing blinked at the younger mech. "Too busy for it?" There was a note of incomprehension in the white jet's voice.

"Preparing to come here," Lightwing glanced up, surprised by the reaction. "Leaning to fight. Learning to work, crafts, to be self-sufficient, to meditate and pray and about Primus. Learning what is known of the Knights of Light outside the Citadel. Trying to catch up with any Knight that was sighted. My creators were very supportive."

Golden optics brightened. "You've really been preparing for this your whole existence. You'll make a fine Knight." He smiled brightly at the Praxian, tugging Lightwing into the berthroom.

"Thank you," he followed willingly, his control of his field breaking with how much that meant to him to hear from a Knight, from one who _knew_ what it took to become a Knight.

The white jet wiggled his wings, his smile bright. One wingtip trailed lightly over Lightwing's armor. "Are you interested in learning what you've been too busy for?" Gold optics glowed warmly.

Another flicker of that strange arousal, a flash of nervousness and Lightwing nodded.

Wing trilled softly, running his fingers over Lightwing's armor as he backed slowly toward the berth. His field was warm and encouraging, and he smiled when arousal and curiosity responded. Lightwing wasn't touching back, but he leaned into Wing's touch lightly.

"You can touch me," Wing murmured, his hands working their way over Lightwing's armor, exploring the contours. Gentle fingertips stroked over the armor seams and the smooth planes. It drew a shivering tremble from the young mech, distracting him from processing the words for a lingering moment. It was only when Lightwing's linguistic processors caught up with the input that he reached out to run his hands tentatively down Wing's chest. His fingers traced seams and dipped carefully into gaps, trying to mimic what Wing was doing without any of the white mech's confidence.

Wing smiled encouragingly, purring softly at the touches. He stepped closer, one hand sliding over Lightwing's shoulder to brush against the base of one elegant white and orange wing.

Lightwing froze and moaned, his bright orange optics flickering at the rush of sensations that crashed into his processor from the touch.

The white jet's optics brightened at the reaction, stroking the wing base again. His own wings spread open, twitching in silent invitation. Purring, Wing moved closer, his armor almost brushing the Praxian's.

When Lightwing regained control of his frame he reached to stroke along the full length of the slender, outstretched wings, appendages so very different from his own in form and function. His own wings were trembling, unaccustomed to the touch of a lover ... or any touch, really.

White wings pressed into Lightwing's hands, Wing's purr increasing in intensity. His fingers slid into the joints at the base of Lightwing's wings, stroking over the mechanisms that extended and controlled the intricate appendages. Greatly daring, Wing tilted his helm, brushing his lips lightly over the younger mech's facemask.

The black expanse split down the center and parted, retracted under the red sides of Lightwing's helm. Plump lips and a small nose met Wing's gaze, making him wonder why in the world such an attractive mech would hide their face. He admired Lightwing's face, trilling softly. Leaning forward, he nuzzled against the Praxian's cheek, brushing his lips against the younger mech's. Wrapping his arms around Lightwing's frame, he backed up until his legs hit the berth, drawing the black-red-white aerial down onto the soft surface with him.

The lighter mech gave a squeak of distressed surprise as he was suddenly pulled off balance. Large wings flared and engines revved in pure reflex to stop the fall that Wing's embrace prevented from stopping. Arms stiffened and shifted to avoid crushing Wing's wings when his hands braced his fall just as he realized that the movement was intentional and he relaxed.

The white mech stroked Lightwing's back gently, running his hands up the lengths of the younger mech's wings. Curious fingertips brushed against the orange vanes as Wing dared another soft kiss, his purr vibrating through his frame and into Lightwing's where their armor touched.

Though the kiss wasn't returned, it wasn't rejected. All that was forgotten though as Wing felt something _new_. His fingers slid _into_ the orange fingers, passing through energy with the consistency of thick energon held in place by the most subtle of force fields.

The reaction from Lightwing was nearly instant. His entire frame stiffened with a cry that mixed shock and pleasure and his wings pressed into the touch _hard_, almost flapping down in an effort to gain more of that sensation.

Chirping softly, Wing repeated the motion, running his fingers through the energy, as far along those orange fingers as he could reach. Bright gold optics observed Lightwing's reactions, Wing's other hand lifting to the other wing, slipping his fingers into orange light.

All Lightwing could do was tremble and keen as the crackling energy rippled through his frame unchecked. It was terrifying. It felt incredibly good. He wanted more and wanted it to stop in the same thought.

Dark fingertips brushed against the bases of the orange vanes, where the energy emerged from the metal of Lightwing's wings. Wing combed his fingers through the energy, swirling it around black digits, brushing against the edges. Still purring, he nipped lightly along the younger mech's jawline to his open mouth.

Lightwing was lost to all this. All he was aware of was the torrent of sensation as his systems went critical, then cascaded into his first overload.

Wing wrapped his arms around Lightwing, trilling softly as charge leaped and danced across the younger mech's plating, jumping off onto Wing's armor, darting along the white jet's sensor net. The white mech kissed Lightwing again, nibbling gently at his lower lip, stroking the red-black-white mech's back and shoulders as the overload washed and crashed through Lightwing before ebbing away.

It left the young mech trembling and trying to hold back a sob as the final flickers caused him to twitch. He really wasn't sure he liked that part, no matter how good the lead-up was.

Wing purred, rubbing the nasal of his helm against Lightwing's cheek. "That was your first overload."

Panting as the heat in his systems registered, Lightwing made a noncommittal sound before managing words. "An acquired taste, I think."

"It does take some getting used to," Wing agreed, rubbing the metal between Lightwing's wings. "And experience makes it so much better."

"More controllable, or acclimation to the sensation?" Lightwing asked as he tried to settle himself. This was _nothing_ like he'd been anticipating when he'd decided to accept Wing's flirting.

"A bit of both. Once you're more used to it, it will feel intensely pleasurable, rather than unsettling." Wing ran his fingers over the angles and points of Lightwing's helm. "There are other ways to experience it, not just tactile, what I just did."

"The ways that have seals to break first," Lightwing nodded.

Wing nodded, continuing to stroke Lightwing's back and helm. "This is your first time; how far you want to go is entirely up to you."

Lightwing just stared at him, his look not at all dissimilar to the one Wing had when told Lightwing hadn't had time for interfacing. Confusion, distress and a tightly controlled burst of fear all swirled in his field before he got it under control.

Wing blinked at him. "I'd never hurt you." He wasn't sure what to make of Lightwing's reaction.

"Don't promise what you can't offer, Wing," Lightwing murmured before settling and leaning down to kiss him lightly. "It will hurt to break the seals."

Wing purred into the kiss. "I wouldn't know... I was sparked adult, and I never had seals to begin with. But I will do my best to make it hurt as little as possible."

"I trust you," Lightwing whispered. "I don't know how to make it hurt less," he admitted.

The white mech kneaded a wing joint, gliding his fingers along the mechanisms that extended Lightwing's wings. "I will do my best," he murmured, nipping delicately at the younger mech's lower lip.

Lightwing hummed, arching his back into the hand there. "What first?"

Wing chirred. "I like being spiked, personally..." One hand wandered down to stroke feather-light circles over Lightwing's equipment covers, teasing the edges. Obediently the spike cover slid open, allowing Wing's curious fingers access. It all felt normal until he reached the housing and realized calling it a seal was accurate. From the edge of the housing all the way over housing and retracted spike was a flexible but tough rubbery covering.

Wing stroked his fingertips over the seal, humming curiously. After a moment, he slowly rolled himself and his lover over, settling Lightwing back on the berth. White armor slid over red-black-white as the jet slithered slowly down the Praxian's frame until he was at optic level with the seal. Gold optics lowered to examine it, then Wing leaned forward to press lips and glossa against it.

A sharp gasp escaped from above as white hips jerked, but Lightwing's field allowed no confusion; it felt _very_ good. White fingers tightened against the berth covers and white thighs spread further apart.

Gold optics brightened at the reaction. Wing lapped at the seal, his glossa flirting with the edges, his fingers working into Lightwing's hip joints, stroking the gyros and circuits. Leaning closer, Wing pressed his lips against the seal, sucking lightly on it. It flexed, though not by much, as Lightwing keened and tossed his helm back.

Orange optics turned off Lightwing's full focus went to the sensations of sensors he'd never given thought to before. His spike sent him a ping requesting activation but he dismissed it for now. He wasn't ready for the pain yet and Wing didn't seem impatient yet.

Wing repeated the action, the tip of his glossa tracing the edge of the seal. He could feel the warmth building behind it, the prickling of energy. Pressing lips and glossa against the seal, the white jet turned up the intensity of his purr, his lips vibrating against the rubbery seal.

Lightwing's keen turned into something close to a scream as his hips jerked out of his control, vainly seeking more of the slick, vibrating heat his spike could feel just out of reach as the tip pressed against the seal. Again the request to pressurize was dismissed, though now Lightwing was fully aware that at some point automatic systems would answer for him and grant permission. Until then, he was determined to enjoy as much as he could.

Wing smiled against the seal, the tip of his glossa flicking over the lump that was Lightwing's spike tip pressing against the rubbery material. Continuing to purr, he sucked lightly on the seal, fingers sliding deeper into the Praxian's hip joints.

With a sobbing keen Lightwing's fingers curled fully into fits, tearing the material he was gripping, and his spike pressed outward a bit more. Another dismissal, though he was only dimly aware of doing so. He _might_ just overload before that request came up again, though he was beyond any ability to work out if that was a good thing or not. He could only plead for the pleasurable intensity to continue.

The white jet trilled softly, his audial flares twitching forward to catch the nearly-unintelligible pleading. Pressing his mouth right over the lump that was Lightwing's spike tip, Wing sucked on the seal, purring so hard his plating rattled softly. Wing's field wrapped around Lightwing's, bright with desire.

Past any ability to think, Lightwing's field responded by meshing with Wing's, sharing the intensity of what was tumbling through Lightwing's frame. The returned desire from Wing was all it took for Lightwing's systems to override his flagging will. His spike pressurized into Wing's mouth in an explosive rush, tearing rubber from adhesive with a flash of pain that was gone almost as fast as it came.

Purring happily, Wing licked and sucked at the newly-revealed spike as if it were the finest energon candy, reveling in how _different_ it tasted from a spike that had known use. Golden optics flicked up to take in Lightwing's blind, shuddering bliss as the white mech's glossa tip flicked along the base of the Praxian's spike, lips closing over the tip, slowly sliding the length into his mouth.

White hips bucked, forcing the spike deeper into Wing's mouth as Lightwing roared with a blinding overload and the rush of his very first burst of transfluid across the sensor-laden interior tube of his spike.

The white mech's intake flexed around Lightwing's spike as he swallowed the younger mech's transfluid, not letting a single drop escape. Savoring the taste, he licked along the length of that delicious spike, capturing any stray drops, before lifting his helm to look up at Lightwing's face only to realize the mech was out cold.

Wing chirred to himself, wings wiggling, then slithered back up Lightwing's frame to stretch out next to him, lazily reaching back to pull the soft, plush coverlet his creator's mentor had given him over himself and the younger flier. Resting his helm against Lightwing's shoulder, Wing let himself doze, still purring very softly.

The better portion of two joors later Lightwing's optics snapped on with a jerk as he all but launched himself from the berth in a state of near panic. Wing jumped in surprise, almost getting himself tangled in the soft white and gold blanket. Blinking sleepily, he looked at Lightwing's back as the young jet ran for the door, tilting his helm to the side. "Lightwing?"

It wasn't heard over the roar of powerful, finely-tuned engines and a transformation sequence in the living room as Lightwing literally flew out the open balcony.

That was not what Wing had expected. The white jet sat up on his berth, staring after Lightwing, wondering what the Pit had just happened.

It took a klik for Wing to make note of the chronometer, and another half klik to remember that he'd neglected to clear the younger mech to spend the night. Shaking his helm at his own absentmindedness, Wing yawned and stretched before settling back in for recharge.

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The next orn, the white jet made his way through the Citadel, looking for Lightwing. It took some hunting to track the other mech down. Wing finally had to ask the Knight overseeing the supplicants where Lightwing had been assigned, then made his way to where the Praxian was working deep in the sewers. It was a punishment detail and Wing recognized it the moment he heard it. Despite that he only heard working when he approached the section, not a single sound of complaint from the lone flier.

Wing made his way through the sewers to where Lightwing was working. Peering ahead, he spotted the glow of the orange vanes of the Praxian's unique wings, noting how hard they were vibrating. "Lightwing?"

The Praxian Aerial nearly jumped out of his plating as he whirled to face the speaker. Even with mask firmly in place, it was easy to see how badly the enclosed space was affecting him.

"Yes, Wing?" Lightwing managed to respond after a moment.

"I wanted to see how you were doing." Wing padded closer. "I should've remembered to arrange for you to spend the night with me. It's my fault you got this punishment assignment."

Lightwing shook his helm and turned to continue scraping the walls. "I didn't get my alarm early enough. It went off, just not with enough time to spare."

"Next time I'll remember." Wing placed a hand on Lightwing's shoulder. It shivered under his fingers, the field pulled tight but heavily stressed. "Assuming, of course, that you'd like to repeat the experience."

"Wing ... I can barely think ... right now," he pulled his wings in tighter. "Sorry, I can't _think_."

The white jet squeezed Lightwing's shoulder gently. "I'll see you later, then. Once your shift is over."

Lightwing nodded and turned his full focus on his job. He wasn't even aware of Wing moving away.

Wing smiled at the younger mech, though he knew Lightwing didn't notice. Turning, he made his way out of the sewer, taking flight and going to see what his creators were up to.

Dai Atlas was visible in the courtyard, stalking among the Supplicants. Wing chirped a greeting to Dai Atlas as he flew past, descending to fly a quick loop around the blue mech before rising again, heading toward the quarters his creators shared. Axe, as expected at this joor of the orn, was sprawled on the couch in his quarters, still in the process of drinking his 'morning' energon. The white jet's trill preceded his landing on the balcony, folding his wings and trotting inside.

"Morning, Wing," Axe grinned at him. "Made up with Lightwing?"

"He's assigned to the sewers this orn; I'll catch up with him when he's out and can think again." Wing trotted across the room and climbed up onto black armor, flopping across Axe's chest. "He's quite an interesting mech."

"Is he now?" Axe raised an optic ridge and rubbed Wing's helm crest with his free hand. "Looking to take on a third Initiate?"

"Not at the moment." Wing purred, leaning into the touch. "And yes, he is interesting. He's literally been preparing himself to become a Knight almost his entire existence."

Axe paused, an optic ridge lifting considerably. "Has he been, now? When did he start?"

"Since he was a sparkling." Wing hummed softly, tilting his helm into the black and gold Knight's hand in a blatant effort to get the petting to resume. "He came here as soon as he was able, and he spent so much time preparing that he was too busy for interfacing. I'm his first."

"Wow," Axe murmured as he obliged. "Creator-driven? I mean, that's _young_ for a kindled mecha to focus on a function." He suddenly paused briefly, only to resume, his field tense. "You were his first? Just how careful were you about consent?"

Wing's wings twitched. "I would not have touched him if he had not consented." The white-armored frame shifted. "He says his creators were supportive, but it was his decision to try and become a Knight."

"Good, and good," Axe murmured. "I wish I'd known he hadn't been touched, I would have made sure he understood the rules here. But anyway, if he's that dedicated to becoming a Knight, I'm sure he'll manage."

"He'll make a fine Knight once someone takes him as their Initiate." White wings fluttered. "He has the most interesting wings, as well."

Axe laughed, teasing an audial spine. "So my little Wing is infatuated. Just try not to keep him away from other Knights. He deserves a chance to find the right Daoshi."

"I like him. He's interesting." Wing rested his chin on Axe's armor. "I'm not looking to take another Initiate right now; I have no intention of keeping him away from other Knights." White audial fins flared. "What do you think of him?"

"Young, quiet, sheltered ... desperate," Axe considered. "I haven't spent much time around him. He is a Praxian noble from a fairly high placed House, even if he won't use his full formal designation. I'm fairly sure I know which one, whether he'll admit it or not. He's got a _lot_ of growing up to do. More than I can rightly comprehend."

"He's young and terrified of not making it. It would probably be best if an older Knight takes him as an Initiate." Wing chirred softly, shifting his position on Axe's chest, nudging his helm against the black Knight's hand. "I figured he's a noble, though which house he comes from, I'm not sure."

"It doesn't really matter here what House he's from," Axe gave a crooked grin. "It's not like it would matter one way or another. You're trying to get one of your creators to pick him up, mmm?"

The young white jet trilled innocently. "Just pointing out that an older Knight might be better for him, since Lightwing does have a lot of growing up to do." His gold optics were wide and innocent and Axe laughed.

"And you'd rather have him with the friendly creator than with the stern one," he grinned down. "Youngster doesn't need any more discipline than he's already got."

"Light's nervous enough; one stern look from Dai would probably give him a spark attack. I wouldn't do that to him." Wing stretched out one flight panel lazily, wiggling it for a moment before folding it again.

"So you're setting your pretty playmate up with a Daoshi you trust," Axe smiled warmly. "One you know that won't object to him recharging with you, or you recharging with him a bit more than most would tolerate."

"A Daoshi I trust, and one with enough life experience to guide a sheltered, painfully nervous young mech to Knighthood and maturity." Wing stretched his other wing, fluffing his armor slightly.

"I'll speak to him again after his chores," Axe teased a wing. "No promises, but I will consider him seriously. Just one thing; please don't touch him until I've had a chance to talk."

Wing nodded. "I won't." He flicked the wing, stretching it into Axe's hand. "Thank you." Purring, he rested his helm against his creator's armor.

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Axe ruffled his armor slightly, nodding greetings to a few other Knights. As he had promised Wing, he was going in search of Lightwing now that the young Praxian's shift had ended. Also thanks to Wing, he knew where to find him.

The slender white-red-white mech with orange beams for much of his wings _bolted_ out of the sewer entrance at a full run, his field a chaotic mass of distress as he skidded to a stop and forced himself to calm down.

The black and gold Knight's helm spikes twitched. Fliers in general did not take confined spaces well, especially underground spaces, but Lightwing seemed to be handling it worse than most.

"Lightwing," the black mech greeted, approaching the smaller mech.

The Praxian jerked sharply as he placed the sound, then straightened and managed a fairly good wing-salute. "Senior Knight Axe."

The large triple changer stopped in front of the smaller mech, tilting his helm to regard Lightwing. "You are done with your chores for the orn?"

"Yes, Senior Knight Axe," orange beams continued to quiver as he settled into the normalcy of being under open skies.

"Just Axe, please." The large mech tilted his helm the other way. "I would like to speak with you. You can use the washracks in my quarters to clean up while we talk."

"Thank you, Axe," Lightwing said politely, more than willing to follow the dark giant to the residential tower he lived in.

Axe took to the air, waiting for Lightwing to join him before heading up to his balcony. Once both mechs had landed on the balcony, the black triple changer led the way inside and gave Lightwing a moment to take in the quarters that, along with Wing's and Sheerwing's, took up the entire floor. While Wing's quarters took up less floor space on the level, he had one of the very few two level quarters in the Citadel, though that was only because he was so short compared to his floor-mates.

"Now I understand why Wing has the unusual floorplan," Lightwing murmured before zeroing in on the washrack.

The bigger mech chuckled. He opened the door to the washrack, watching as Lightwing made a beeline for the shower. "Being shorter than the rest of his family gives him more options space-wise." Axe leaned on the doorframe. "He tells me you've wanted to be a Knight almost your whole existence."

Lightwing nodded and turned on the shower with the lower set of controls, installed for Wing. "Since I was a second-stage sparkling, about fifteen vorns old. Maybe before, but that was when I learned the designation for it." He sighed with relief as the solvent began to rain down, drawing the stench of the sewers away from his primary olfactory sensors as he simply stood there and let it wash away the liquid muck.

Wing touched down on the balcony, slipping inside. Finding a place where he could eavesdrop without being noticed, the white mech settled in, audial fins flared wide, listening.

Axe watched from where he stood. "In the time you've been here, have you spoken to many of the senior Knights, found someone that you connect with better than others?"

Orange wing-fingers twitched. "My half-brother, but that's a kinship thing, and Wing?"

"Your kin wouldn't be the one to train you, though." Axe shifted slightly, noting Wing's arrival and flinching on the inside. He was rather hoping his creation would hear about consent and Lightwing's perspective of it filtered through Axe's words, not directly as it was explained. "Wing does not wish to train you."

He saw the flare and settle of those unique wings and understood very well his elder creation's desire to touch. He also understood the shock his words held as the Praxian stilled, then slowly turned around with confusion written on his features.

"Why such interest in me, then?" Lightwing asked quietly, controlling the hurt admirably.

"Wing is... a very sensual creature," Axe replied after a moment. "He's not interested in you as an Initiate. He does not understand the rules where you came from. What most of Cybertron operates under."

Lightwing's helm cocked to one side. "He's your creation."

"My mate and I adopted him when he was already a Senior Knight," Axe explained. "We did not raise him."

"Oh," Lightwing stilled again, a myriad of emotions rippling through him in an unending torrent.

Axe allowed him time to absorb the information before driving it home again. "You have the right to refuse the Sovereign himself, and do so without repercussion."

Wing's audial flares twitched before flattening closer to his helm. His wings quivered against his back, armor pulling closer to his frame. Fear that he had done something wrong, read Lightwing's signals all wrong, rippled through his frame.

Axe hated doing that to his creation. It was his own fault too, for not picking up that Lightwing needed a very different warning than the one he got.

Lightwing simply stood there for a long time, trying to assimilate such an alien concept. "How does society function without the rights of rank?"

The white jet huddled in on himself. Apparently he'd read the signals all wrong, read Lightwing all wrong. There was probably going to be a penance in Wing's near future. If he was lucky, he'd come through it in one piece.

"Quite well," Axe could only shrug. "It's weird to get used to, but basically it comes down to the lower ranks are kept in check by penances and peer pressure, and the upper ranks kept in check by the same. They're very big on penance once you are an Initiate, and even more into it for Knights."

Lightwing was given a moment to assess that, and he cringed. "You don't need to tell Wing. He didn't _mean_ to do anything wrong."

He hadn't meant to, but Wing had still made a big mistake. The white jet had pretty much curled into a trembling ball, and only the fact that his armor was pulled tight to his frame kept it from rattling audibly. Pulling his helm down between his shoulders, nacelle pinions clamped down so tight they were almost denting his nacelles, Wing forcefully suppressed a distressed keen.

"He already knows," Axe said quietly. "He snuck in to listen."

Wing trembled, then slowly emerged from where he'd been lurking. His armor was tight to his frame, wings so tight to his back the joints were creaking. Dulled gold optics lifted to meet Lightwing's briefly, then dropped again.

Lightwing pulled his own wings tight and stared. He didn't know what to do. Reflex made him want to assure the higher ranked mecha. Axe's words made him want to speak the truth.

Wing kept his distance, not sure what to do or say. He kept his optics down, not looking at either of the other two mechs.

"Wing ... for what it may be worth here, I forgive you any part you played in this misunderstanding," Lightwing still struggled with his feelings, but was compelled to say _something_ and fell back on his home culture of believing that Wing had done nothing wrong, even if he had. It wasn't as if Lightwing had been saving himself. He'd just been too busy to bother, and Wing had made it feel good. Unsettling, but good.

"Lightwing, you wish to become a Knight of Light?" Axe focused on him as an idea occurred to him.

"Yes," the youth couldn't put more desire into it if his very spark depended on it. "More than anything."

"Then your first lesson from a Knight will be now. Whether I finish your training or not," Axe said firmly. "My creation will face a penance binding for this to clear his spark. I would have you watch over it."

Wing's wings twitched, and his smile was very faint. "But I can't forgive myself, and I will face my punishment for it." The quiver of white plating hinted that he was not looking forward to it, and he'd expected something worse than just a binding.

"A complaint must be filed by _someone_ for anything more," Axe glanced at his creation. "Until then, it is only your spark that must be cleared of wrong." He turned to look at Lightwing. "Overseeing a binding is not a small matter. It is possible to extinguish during the processes, though extremely rare. It is important that you watch for signs of graying beyond the forearms."

Lightwing nodded seriously. "I will."

Wing inhaled deeply, easing closer. He looked up at Axe. "I'm ready."

"Good," Axe nodded. "Go meditate in your quarters until Lightwing is ready and I have alerted Aurora, Vanguard and Atl."

Wing nodded. He turned, choosing to walk to his quarters rather than fly. His plating remained clamped to his frame, wings tight to his back. Axe and Lightwing watched him go, then Axe looked at the Supplicant. "Finish cleaning up while I make arrangements for you and Wing to be absent until he is done."

"Yes Axe," Lightwing responded and turned to grab the liquid soap and a brush to scrub himself flawlessly clean.

The black and gold Knight watched for a moment, then turned and walked out into the main room. Activating his comm, he contacted Aurora and Atl, informing both of them that Wing and Lightwing would be absent for a time and that it was for a binding. How long, he wasn't sure yet.

::Axe ... I was not expecting to hear from you yet,:: Vanguard sounded genuinely surprised. ::You have already taken on Lightwing?::

::I will be taking Lightwing on, if he accepts.:: Axe shifted slightly. ::Wing is about to undergo a binding. Lightwing will be overseeing it.::

::I take it something happened between them that Lightwing is unwilling to complain about,:: the Sovereign heard between the lines easily. ::I will protect them from any issues their absence attempts to create.::

::Thank you, and yes.:: Axe didn't elaborate any more than that and Vanguard did not ask. ::I'm not sure how long this may take.::

::As with any penance binding,:: Vanguard said with full understanding. ::Alert me if an issue comes up that requires my attention.::

::I will. Again, thank you.:: Axe inclined his helm ever so slightly, though he knew the Sovereign couldn't see him. Somehow it did not surprise him when he heard Lightwing emerge from the washrack so soon. He had no doubt the young noble had been drilled in how to move _fast_ when it was required. "Everything is arranged. You have no obligations until the binding is finished and you have recovered."

Lightwing nodded his understanding.

"Take a seat," he motioned to a rarely-used table with four chairs, one designed for a normal sized mecha to sit with three giants. "You need energon before this begins. If I know my creation, it will not be a quick process."

"Yes, Axe," Lightwing nodded and jumped up to the seat Wing typically occupied, watching as the black and gold giant got two cubes of energon, one sized for each of them, and set the smaller one in front of Lightwing.

"You must have questions. Please ask them." Axe instructed as he sat and sipped at his lunch.

Lightwing paused, the cube at his lips. He unstalled the motion, took a slow drink of the good quality jet energon to give himself time to think.

"How will I know when it is finished?" Lightwing asked.

"When Wing is ready, his field will reach out to touch yours, and that is how you will know when he is ready to be released," Axe answered, taking a sip of his own energon.

"This is a punishment?" Lightwing cocked his helm before focusing on his meal.

"It can also be used as meditation, but this is a penance." Axe met Lightwing's optics squarely. "It might be more than a little disturbing to witness, I will not lie to you."

"Punishments should be," he murmured. "How can a punishment be effective when the one punished determines when it is over?"

"It's hard to explain without your having experienced it for yourself. But it does not end until everything has been faced and dealt with. Believe me, it is a very effective punishment," the larger mech replied.

Lightwing nodded his acceptance that it was not something he was to understand yet. "What am I to do while he is bound?"

"Stay nearby and keep an optic on him. When you begin Knight training you yourself will have to undergo meditation bindings, and probably the occasional penance binding." Axe shifted his cube to his other hand, one helm spike twitching.

"I understand, Axe," he said simply. "Would meditation be an acceptable way to spend the time?"

"Yes, as long as you remain aware enough to sense Wing's field when he is ready to be released." The black and gold Knight nodded.

"I will," Lightwing promised as he finished his energon. "When he is done, what should I do?"

"When he is ready to be released, remove the binding from his wrists. You'll have to catch him to keep him from collapsing," the black mech told him. "His hands will be grayed and cold from lack of power or energon flows; he won't be able to catch himself. Contact me, and I will bring energon for both of you."

"I understand, Axe," Lightwing nodded seriously. "I believe I am as ready as I can be."

Axe nodded, finishing his own cube. "I will summon Wing, then," he said as he stood and motioned Lightwing to follow him into the smallest room of apartment, one that was largely bare. There was a storage cabinet and nothing else.

Only as Wing entered did Lightwing notice the sets hooks on one wall; one near his throat level, and one well above it.

Wing's bearing was more formal than usual, helm up. Gold optics flicked from Axe to Lightwing. "I'm ready."

Axe nodded and motioned Wing to the lower set of hooks as he walked to the cabinet. A meditation rug was brought out for Lightwing, then a coil of orange cord.

Wing walked over, lifting his Great Sword from its resting place between his wings and setting it into the lower wall brackets. His fingers brushed over the hilt before he turned to face Axe, lifting his arms, holding his wrists slightly apart.

Instead of doing so himself, Axe handed the coil to Lightwing. "He will hang from this, so bind him well."

The young mech flared his wings slightly in surprise, but took the cord and considered his task for a moment while the Knights watched. His wings settled fully when he made up his processors and stepped up to Wing. The cord was wrapped around one wrist, the end held in place by a level over it. The looping cross-hatch passed from one wrist to the other until it went all the way to Wing's elbows. A single loop passed under an elbow spike on each arm to the forearm, then up to loop around two fingers. It would deny Wing the ability to straighten his arms off the 60-degree angle they were in now. With that in place the end of the cord was secured to the cross-links between Wing's wrists and the Praxian stepped back, glancing at both for approval of his work.

White wings twitched as Wing regarded the binding. It was one of the more intricate he'd ever been bound with. "That'll work..."

Axe ran a critical optic over the binding. Wing was going to be in quite a bit of pain when this binding was over, but the white jet wasn't complaining. He nodded his acceptance and left the room after making sure Lightwing had his comm.

They'd both felt that this pattern _meant_ something to the young Praxian, though it wasn't clear what.

Wing stepped back, turning toward his Great Sword. Venting heavily, he lifted his arms to loop the binding over the gemmed hilt, settling into a kneeling position as best he could. Letting out a long ex-vent, he rested his forehelm against the long blade, dimmed his optics, and settled into a trance state.

Behind him Lightwing watched silently, almost instinctively calculating the time it would take for each level of pain, each level of damage, to be done. Calculating how long Wing could remain there before lack of energy forced him to shut down. With those times set in his processor, he set the meditation out directly behind Wing where their fields could touch when it was time and knelt to settle into his own meditations on what had brought this about.

It took about a half breem before tremors began running through Wing's frame, drawing Lightwing's focus to him. White plating rattled and wings twitched, flopping out behind him. A tiny whine escaped his vocalizer. Yet it wasn't a whine of pain. Lightwing knew what that sounded like, and he knew that it was far too soon for one with warrior training to admit to the minor discomfort he would be in now.

He extended his field to brush the edge of Wing's, seeking to understand a little better.

Wing's entire focus was turned inward. Guilt and emotional turmoil roiled through his field. Over his helm, the Great Sword's gem glowed from within, a bright, clear blue. The jet whimpered softly, one wing spasming.

Lightwing could see how this would be disturbing for many to witness.

He found it ... soothing ... at the moment. He had little doubt that Axe knew that he _did_ bear ill feelings over what had happened.

As the time passed, wing spasms became full-frame convulsions. Wing went from utterly still to spasming and convulsing, fighting the binding only to sink back down into his kneeling position. The sounds he made ranged from soft moans and whimpers to barely understandable pleading to spark-rending keening.

Lightwing didn't understand how meditation, even in a painful position, could do this. His optics were drawn once more to the glowing gem in the hilt of the Great Sword. He knew they were mystical, artifacts of an ancient time. He'd heard they were sentient, on a level. Heard it from a Knight of Light, so he believed it. Was that it, that connection to Primus? It would explain what was going on.

The binding dragged on for joors, deep into the night. It wasn't until near dawn that the white jet went completely limp, his respiration ragged, wings hanging loose down his back. His hands and forearms had gone gray, the red stabilizer blades on his arms having faded to a washed-out shade from lack of energon flow. His field eased outward, brushing against Lightwing's, indicating that Wing was finally ready for release.

::Axe, he's done,:: Lightwing pinged the elder Knight and reached up to grab Wing's forearms, using his thrusters to pull him off and away from the wall, then settling on the floor to undo his intricate knot work with dexterous fingers.

::I'll be right there,:: the black and gold giant replied.

Wing lay limp on the floor, staying still as his cold hands were released. His optics were dimly lit. He barely reacted to Lightwing's presence. Lightwing simply knelt next to him and carefully wound the cord into the spool he had received it in.

Heavy pedefalls announced Axe's arrival. The large mech carried two energon cubes in his hand. Blue optics swept over the two smaller mechs before Axe knelt down, passing one of the cubes to Lightwing. Lifting Wing into his lap, Axe began kneading his creation's hands, encouraging the power and energon flows to return. Slowly, Wing's optics powered up, glowing softly.

Lightwing watched carefully as he sipped on the energon. This would be important to remember. He had no doubt of it. He would need to make time to meditate on all he'd felt from Wing and what it did to him. This was nothing like anything he had witnessed, much less experienced.

Once Wing began to stir ever so slightly, Axe's optics turned toward Lightwing. "Does that answer your questions about the effectiveness of binding as a punishment?"

"Yes, Axe," he inclined his helm. "Though it raises more than it answered, I am sure the answers will come in time."

"Some of those answers won't come until after your training is complete," Axe replied. He looked down at the stirring white mech in his lap. "Others will come when you undergo your own first binding." He released Wing's hand, reaching for the other. "By Knight law, Wing has been appropriately punished for what he has done. Anything that remains is for you and he to work out."

Lightwing inclined his helm in understanding. "This is far more than I expected."

Axe tilted his helm, one of his helm spikes twitching. "Might I ask what you were expecting?"

"Nothing," black, white and orange wings flicked. "I believed he was within his rights. It will take time to acclimate to such different social standards from what I grew up with."

"Things are very different here, and I know it will take a while to adjust. Dai Atlas and myself took quite some time to adapt, as well. Wing has lived here almost his whole life; he knows little about social rules and norms outside the Citadel." Axe shifted the white mech closer to his torso, Wing curling into black armor. "Both you and he have this orn off. Once both of you have rested and recharged, perhaps it would be good for both of you to talk and work out whatever remains between you."

"Yes, Axe," Lightwing accepted the suggestion as an order and stood smoothly. "I will come to his quarters after I recharge."

"He'll probably be spending some time in here with myself and my mate, but I will be sending him back to his quarters when my shift begins. Just be sure to comm ahead." The black and gold Knight picked up the second energon cube, passing it to Wing as the white mech reached for it. Wing murmured his thanks, taking a long drink.

"I will," Lightwing promised before slipping from the room, leaving Axe with his mature creation to recover as they wished to. He had much to think about, and he did need to recharge.

Wing watched the other flier leave, shifting slightly on Axe's lap. Golden optics dimmed, slender wings slowly settling back into their usual tuck, tight to his back plating. He felt so very tired, trying not to drift off before he finished his energon. He was barely aware of Axe taking him into the larger Knight's berthroom to recharge with him and Dai Atlas.

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It was late afternoon when Lightwing had finished recharging and meditated on the penance he had witnessed enough to be ready to face Wing once more. He'd commed ahead, as instructed, and Wing was in his quarters waiting for him when he landed on the balcony of the strange two-story quarters.

Wing was curled up in his plush blanket on the couch, the smooth lines of his armor hidden under soft gold and white. He looked up as Lightwing arrived, shifting into a more upright position. "Come in."

"Your creator believes we are not done," Lightwing said quietly as he came to stand before Wing. Bright orange optics looked in Wing's direction without actually looking at him.

The white mech freed one arm from his cocoon, waving Lightwing to a chair. "I know. He's of the opinion we should talk things out, try and work things out between us." Wing shifted slightly. "If Axe does take you as his Initiate, we will be seeing quite a bit of each other... I would rather be on good terms with you, rather than you hating me for what I did."

Lightwing sat where he'd been motioned to and pulled his knees up to his chest, resting his chin on his knees. "I would as well. I truly did not believe I could say no. Not without risking what chance I might have to become a Knight."

Wing seemed to sink deeper into his soft cocoon. "I was unaware you didn't know. Anyone can say no here, without any real consequences. You had every right to tell me to shove off if you wanted to, and I deeply apologize for not making that clear."

"I did not know. You did not know," Lightwing sighed with a light huff. "It wasn't as if I was trying to save myself; I told you the truth that I simply never made time for it. It felt good. I just ... I wish it had happened with my processors in a different place."

"Still. I should have realized, I should have made sure you knew. That was my own failing." Wing's optics dropped. "I never meant to hurt you or force you into something you did not want but could see no way out of."

"It happened, Wing," Lightwing glanced up. "Nothing's going to change that. There is only how we move forward. I was brought up that holding onto pain is not the way one should exist. It happens, one learns from it, one moves on. I may feel strange around you for a time, but it will pass. I have not finished meditating on it."

"I hope we can work out things well enough to at least coexist peacefully." Wing shifted in his soft cocoon, letting the blanket fall away so the younger mech could clearly see as the white jet placed a hand on his chestplate. "And I swear on my spark that I will not touch you again, unless you come to me having thought everything through and of your own will."

"Thank you," Lightwing met Wing's optics briefly. "If you can let go of the guilt, we can. A decaorn should be enough for me to settle on how I feel and move on fully. It was not a _bad_ experience," he smiled shyly. "It was just poorly timed. I would have liked to know you better first, than to be a stranger in your berth; a conquest rather than a friend."

Wing returned the smile. "I do think we can do that. Take all the time you need."

"Axe ... is really inclined to take me as his Initiate?" Lightwing tried to keep the desperate hope from his voice and wings.

"He is," Wing confirmed. "You'll like him, I think. He's much more laid back and easy-going than my other creator." Under the cocooning blanket, tense armor loosened itself from his frame, slender wings flaring slightly.

Bright orange wing fingers flared and brightened sharply. "He didn't say anything."

"Things did get more than a little side-tracked," Wing admitted, shifting slightly. "He will."

"That or he wanted to make sure we can cohabitate before he offers," Lightwing suggested. "It wouldn't do for him to try and train someone who bore ill-will towards his creation."

"Especially considering that I'm more likely to be recharging with my creators than I am in my own berth, unless I have company," the white mech agreed. His smile widened. "It's a bit of a running joke that I've gotten Dai so well cuddle-trained that he can't recharge without a smaller mech curled up on his chest."

"Somehow I think that if it were true, Axe would be having _words_ with you," Lightwing snickered. "It would speak ill of his ability to satisfy his mate."

Wing chuckled. "Axe just laughs at him. He has lots of pictures of Dai deep in recharge with me curled up on top of him. And Dai will come to fetch me out of my own berth at times. Not that I mind."

"When Axe is there?" Lightwing had to force his jaw not to hang open.

"I cuddle up with both of them." Wing databurst the younger mech an image he'd gotten from Thorn, of both Axe and Dai Atlas recharging with a much smaller white frame snuggled between them.

"You really do look like a sparkling against them," Lightwing trilled in laughter. "Not at all unlike my creators with my younger brother," he databurst a capture of two Praxians, both predominately black and white, with a sparkling just coming into his first armor cradled between them as they recharged.

"Except I'll remain this size compared to them. They do consider me their sparkling, and I certainly don't mind being cuddled like one." Wing chirred happily.

"Which is good, given they'll probably always cuddle you like one," Lightwing smiled. "Axe said you'd spent most of your existence here. Were your creators Knights?"

Wing deflated a bit. "My creators were stunt clan leaders; I was sparked a stunt flier. But I didn't turn out the way they wanted me to be, and they threw me out of the clan. I was very young when I stumbled into Citadel airspace, and I spent most of my existence here. I never really had much of a family until Dai and Axe adopted me."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Lightwing lowered his wings in sympathy. "I was lucky that way. My creators were very supportive of me, of all of us. I think it helped that there were many of us. They didn't have to force any of us to be what they needed, since there were plenty who were already well-suited to govern the House."

"My original creators wanted obedient mechs who would follow orders, without improvising or disobeying. That's not me. They tried to force me, and when that didn't work they abandoned me." Slender wings twitched. "But now I have a family, a younger brother, and even an uncle figure."

"Younger but much bigger," Lightwing trilled. "Are they planning to have another, since Sheerwing is grown?"

"That all depends on Dai. Though, if he does decide he wants another, keep your distance. He is _scary_ when he's carrying." Wing shivered at the memory.

"Carrying doesn't agree with him?" Lightwing hummed. "It doesn't for everyone. I can imagine how scary a mecha like him could get."

"He almost took Firefly's helm off, just for touching him. Even I was steering clear of him." Wing cringed slightly. "Definitely a carrier to avoid."

"Primus," Lightwing whispered. "That's extreme. How did he handle it after separation?"

"Once his frame returned to normal, he calmed back down to normal. Give or take the occasional dark look if someone got too close to Sheerwing, though that settled after a while, too. If he chooses to carry again, the Citadel will be warned." The white mech uncurled slowly.

"I would hope so," he murmured. "Sounds worse than when the House locked down because of sabotage. Though at least you knew who to watch out for. I haven't seen any sub-adults. Are they that rare, or have I just missed them?"

"Sheer is the youngest mech created here, at the moment. Though there are rumors floating around that a few other couples are considering having sparklings, and Firefly was practically floating when he told me his creators are pondering trying again," Wing replied.

"It will be nice to have little ones around again," Lightwing smiled. "My creators were unusually prolific. It feels strange not to have little ones running around."

"For most Knights, their relationship with their Daoshi, the Knight who trains them, is the most intimate relationship they have. Not many bond. Dai and Axe, and Shogun and Stormcloud, are some of the few exceptions." Wing shifted again, stretching out a bit.

"Why?" Lightwing cocked his helm, a flash of unease twitching his wings.

"To tell the truth, I'm not entirely sure. Dai and Axe came here bonded, and though Shogun and Stormcloud weren't when they arrived, Shogun carrying him the whole way, they bonded after Shogun finished training." Wing shrugged a bit helplessly.

"It sounds like they were already close," Lightwing hummed. "That will be strange too, the idea of being alone. I never considered the possibility that I wouldn't bond one orn."

"They were." A wing fluttered under the blanket. "I hope to bond one orn, when I find my one true love. Though it may take a long time."

"A love-bond," Lightwing smiled. "I wish you the best finding him."

SXSXSXSXSXSXSXSX S===================S SXSXSXSXSXSXSXS

Dai Atlas surveyed the entrance to the sewers, the place of great punishment for the majority of flying mecha, but in this case Steelspark had simply earned the bad luck of the chore draw.

The white and yellow Seeker likely had his wings pulled as low and close to his back as he could, as all those with spread wings did down there. He was one of the very few who didn't vocally grumble about the bad chores he got while doing them; usually some interesting grumbles and occasional profanity could be heard echoing through the sewers. Steelspark simply accepted it. He could be heard moving around as he worked, picking his way through the grime as he sought out the last of the cogs in his section, then quietly made his way to the surface.

Yellow and white wings flared as Steelspark emerged from the sewers. The Seeker shook himself slightly, venting air in a long, soft sigh of understandable relief. Making sure he hadn't missed anything, he collected his supplies.

"You handle that better than most," Dai Atlas' deep rumble came from one side.

A rapid flicker of Steelspark's wingtips was the only hint that Dai Atlas had caught him by surprise. Blue optics lifted to meet the larger mech's red. "It has to be done, and I find there is no use complaining about it. The claustrophobia's manageable as long as I try not to think about it."

"I believe most handle it by complaining," the giant chuckled. "It's been true enough for many unpleasant duties. Complain, joke, try not to think ... though that you manage the later is still commendable. Are you done with your chores for the orn?"

"I am finished, yes." Steelspark inclined his helm. "I have to put my supplies away, and then I am finished for the orn."

"My washrack is open if you care to clean up while we talk," Dai Atlas offered, walking with the large Seeker.

The Seeker looked at him curiously, then nodded. "I would. Thank you."

It took only a klik for Steelspark to put away all the supplies he'd been using that orn. Once the last was put away, Steelspark closed the supply room and then turned to face Dai Atlas, nodding to indicate that he was done, and followed the giant Knight when he lifted off to his balcony well up in one of the residential towers. The quarters the great double doors opened to were incredibly huge, though with two mecha that made him feel small they would have to be. A glance also told him they were far more complex than he understood Knight's quarters to be. There were six doors leading off the main living room. He could guess that one lead to the hallway and the others likely lead to berthrooms for the Knights and their Initiates, or something like that.

With a slight smile as he watched Steelspark try to work out the layout of his quarters without any opens doors to help him out, Dai Atlas pinged the washroom door to slide open and motioned the Seeker inside.

The mystery of the larger mech's quarters layout kept part of Steelspark's processor active as the Seeker nodded his thanks to Dai Atlas, heading to one of the racks. A soft vent of relief, quickly muffled, escaped as sewer grime was washed out of the seams of yellow and white armor.

After a moment, Steelspark turned back to Dai Atlas, though he didn't emerge from under the fall of cleanser. "You wished to speak with me?"

"Yes," the giant nodded. "I understand you wish to train as a Knight of Light?"

"I do." All of the Seeker's attention was on the blue triple changer, his stance slowly drifting into a more formal position.

"Are there any Knights you have connected with particularly well?" Dai Atlas cocked his helm even as he responded to Steelspark's stance with a more formal shift in himself. "I am well aware that you have spoken with most of us."

The younger mech shook his helm. "I have spoken to most of the Knights here, but none of them I feel a particularly strong connection with." One wing twitched ever so slightly.

"Then I would have you consider becoming my Initiate," Dai Atlas raised his hand. "Give me an answer no earlier than after chores tomorrow."

Steelspark blinked at him once or twice as he digested that, then he dipped his helm in a nod. "I will give it my full consideration."

"Then do you have any questions for me?" Dai Atlas offered, motioning Steelspark to finish washing up.

Picking up a brush and using it to dislodge a piece of debris that had gotten lodged under a yellow armor plate, Steelspark considered. "Not at the moment... Though I'm certain something will pop up later," he replied after a moment.


	18. Tradewinds' Approach

Fandom: Transformers G1  
Author: gatekat, ultrarodimus on LJ  
Pairing: Axe/Dai Atlas, Wing/Tradewinds  
Rating: NC-17  
Codes: Slash, Historical Setting, Knights of Light, Sticky  
Disclaimer: The authors are only playing with their own twisted muses. Transformers belong to Hasbro. Fandom-side, check the inspirations page (gatekat-fics .livejournal 290 .html). We draw from a ton of amazing stories and authors you should read.

**Kneeling to the Sword 18: Tradewinds' Approach**  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ =================== ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wing flew, excited and curious, to the small energon cafe the message had indicated. He didn't recognize the voice on the message, though he had a vague sense of recognition at the designation glyph attached to it. So all he was sure of was that someone invited him to eat out at a nice but normal hangout favored by civilians living in the Citadel. Someone who had a definite desire to talk with him, away from his creators.

Wondering who this mysterious mech could be and what he wanted, Wing darted between the Citadel's structures to the cafe. Touching down neatly just outside the cafe, Wing folded his wings, fluffed and resettled his armor, and went inside, looking around. Almost immediately he spotted a large white mech, a small shuttle, with light blue and yellow trim and bright blue optics who waved at him.

The small white jet immediately headed in that direction, weaving his way between the other mecha in the cafe. One wing twitched slightly as he approached the shuttle-former, looking the other white mech over curiously. "Hello."

"Hello," the shuttle smiled back and motioned Wing to sit and to the small selection of confections and energon carafe on the table. That smile turned to a chuckle. "You don't remember me?" his tone was decidedly amused in its lack of surprise.

Slender wings twitched slightly. "I'm sorry, but I don't, really." Wing slid into a seat, leaning on the table, still looking the other mech over. The white shuttle, Tradewinds, was quite a good-looking mecha.

"I can't say I'm surprised," he chuckled. "You were being chased by that Praxian with the strange orange wings ... Lightwing, I think. Almost ran into me when I came in for a landing by medical."

"That would explain it... Jet tag tends to hold my attention," Wing replied. He tilted his helm, flaring his audial fins. "You're a courier, then? I'd heard there was a new one in the Citadel."

"Only on the side," he nudged the confections towards Wing before picking one up. "My gift puts me in high demand for fast, long-range transport for heavy or bulky things. Economics is my function by choice. Both are useful here, as are my contacts on the outside. Vanguard appreciates my ability to keep the coffers at a good level."

The smaller jet made a face. "Economics is one thing I don't really have the processor for." Picking out a confection, he took a bite, humming softly at the taste.

"Not many do," Tradewinds gave an easy grin. "What do you have a processor for?"

"Skydancing," Wing replied promptly. "I also picked up trades in surveying and architecture. But mostly skydancing." He fluttered slender wings slightly.

"You have the frame for it," Tradewinds smiled softly. "I doubt there are many that could catch you when you choose to _move_."

"Only another of my own frametype," Wing agreed. "There are a few here, but most are part of the stunt clans out on the plains. I can fly rings around most other flying mecha."

"I don't doubt it. Not unlike how I can outfly and outlast most any shuttle out there," Tradewinds nodded. "Do you skydance for entertainment often?"

"I dance when I can," the white jet replied. "When I have the time and the inclination. When I do, I usually attract an audience."

"I bet you do," Tradewinds smiled and poured Wing a cube from the carafe, showing that it was a lightly effervescing type. "Is that your only hobby?"

Wing took a sip from the cube, purring at the taste. "I skydance, I glomp my creators, and I'm working on growing a small crystal garden as well as a small tree my creator's mentor sent me from off-world."

"Glomp?" Tradewinds cocked his helm. "I'm not familiar with that word."

"Jumping on them and clinging, more or less," Wing explained. "They're used to it."

"I'm sure it leads to some funny captures," Tradewinds smiled warmly. "You're really quite attached to them."

Wing nodded, smiling brightly. "They're my family, and Sheerwing is my brother. I'm very attached to them, and they're attached to me."

"Is that why you don't date?" he asked in a soft voice and quickly lifted his cube to give Wing a moment.

The white jet cycled his optics in a blink. "I just haven't found my _one_ yet. Though that doesn't mean I'm not looking. I could date if I wanted to."

Sleek, intricate wings drooped slightly. "You're waiting for a resonance match?"

Wing huffed softly. "Resonance matches are so rare they're almost mythical. I'm not going that far."

"Then what are you looking for?" Wings perked up slightly.

"I'm not entirely sure," Wing admitted. "But I'm sure I'll know when I find it. Someone who completes me."

Tradewinds nodded. "Willing to give dating a try? You might find what you're looking for."

The smaller mech's audial fins flared out. "Always worth a try." He lifted his energon cube again, gold optics gleaming over the edge as he watched the intricate pair of wings across from him flutter.

"Then you'll go flying with me next orn?" Tradewinds asked.

Wing's smile widened. "Certainly."

Intricate angular wings twitched and fluttered as a warm smile bloomed across Tradewinds' features. "Glad to hear that. A loop around the Citadel's plains, or maybe to somewhere?"

"There's nowhere to fly to that won't take two orns to reach," Wing pointed out. "As far as I know, neither of us is a teleporter, either. But we can make a loop over the plains."

"Sounds good," Tradewinds nodded. "I've only lived here a couple vorns. I know there aren't any _cities_ nearby, but that doesn't always mean there aren't _places_ nearby. I'm fast, but even I take just over an orn to reach civilization if I don't stop."

Wing's wings flared, fluttering for a moment before folding again. "That's fast. I haven't tested myself out to see how far I can get at top speed, but I already know I don't have the fuel tank capacity to make it from here to the nearest city without stopping. Most of our supplies come in by teleporter. Limits the risk of having to make a fuel stop and getting discovered by raiders out on the plains."

"Teleporter, or a couple shuttles with scramblers and long range," he nodded. "I'm one of the latter. Head out going one direction, land, turn the scrambler on, take off and circle around to the Citadel. I'm the fast one of those who fly. Skyripple is the other. He's the big medium blue and gray you've likely seen. I tend to get the loads that he and Titanus can't handle."

Wing nodded. "I've seen him, but I never caught his designation. Titanus is the courier I've had the most contact with. First time I really saw him appear out of nowhere he startled me right off my creator's shoulder. Otherwise I'd never given much thought to how supplies get here."

"Few mecha outside those who move or order supplies do," Tradewinds smiled. "There is no reason to think about it until it's an issue. It's not the politicians or credit-counters who know what's available where. It's the mecha who make and deliver it."

Wing hummed softly, regarding the larger mech. Gold optics took in the shuttle-former's intricate wings. "Any particular time you'd prefer to go flying? I have a morning shift tomorrow."

"Unless a supply order comes up for me, my work can be done whenever, as long as I get it done," he smiled. "Reports, recommendations and reviewing the news. I can do half of it on the wing. So perhaps when you get off shift?"

"Sounds good." Wing smiled, his optics sparkling. "I'll find you."

That raised an optic ridge over bright blue optics. "You know where to find me?"

Wing's grin widened. "You're in the Citadel database. I can find you."

"All right, come find me," Tradewinds wiggled his wings playfully. "I'll try not to make it _too_ difficult for you."

The white Knight's optics lit up, his own wings wiggling. "That sounds like a challenge."

"I can make it one if you'd like," Tradewinds' blue optics glittered brightly. "I like hunt and tag."

"Challenge accepted," Wing purred, his golden optics sparkling.

"Just make sure to top your tanks off before you come hunting," Tradewinds lifted his cube in a toast. "So how many death threats should I expect over this?"

The small jet snorted. "As long as you behave, they'll give you dark looks but no threats. My creators are well aware of my reputation."

"And your current lovers?" Tradewinds teased, showing he knew Wing's reputation as well. "Any I should worry about if I manage to take you off the market?"

"There will be many mecha mourning the loss of a lover," Wing replied. "But if you do manage to win me, they would congratulate you for doing so."

"Nice to know I won't be angering anyone by trying," Tradewinds' wings flicked in relief, but also desire. "I'd hate to be chased out of the Citadel."

"Oh, they wouldn't chase you out." Wing's smile was blinding. The white jet tilted his helm. "What led you to settle here?"

Tradewinds ducked his helm. "You, really. I can roost anywhere. None of my functions or jobs need me to be stationed in a given place. Here's as good as the next place."

Wing blinked. "You settled here for me?"

"For a chance, yes," his wings flicked in definite embarrassment.

The smaller mech smiled. "It might not go anywhere, though."

"Might not," Tradewinds acknowledged. "There's no chance of it going anywhere if I didn't try."

"That is true," Wing agreed. "Nothing ventured, nothing gained." He put his empty cube down, his fingers brushing against Tradewinds' off hand. It quickly turned over to capture Wing's fingers before he withdrew, sharing a field that was rich with arousal, relief, and anticipation.

"It has already paid dividends," Tradewinds purred, bringing Wing's knuckles to his lips for a feather-light kiss. "It will pay more tomorrow."

"Especially after I catch you," Wing purred in response, enjoying the flare of arousal in Tradewinds' field. "I look forward to the chase."

"We both do," Tradewinds shivered before claming down on his desires. "I would like to know you better before interfacing," he managed to keep a serious tone.

White audial fins flared out with interest. "Oh? Ask away." Wing fluttered slender wings teasingly, settling into a more comfortable position in his chair and crossing one leg over the other under the table. The tip of his footplate just brushed Tradewinds' leg armor, earning him another flicker of desire and flutter of intricate wings.

"Umm, well, what is your orn like?" Tradewinds had to work to focus.

"My orn consists of the usual chores that are expected of any member of the Order, some meditation, and training. I don't have an Initiate right now, so the rest of the orn is free time, to do as I please. I hang around with friends, with my creators, I skydance..." Wing shrugged slightly, flaring his nacelle pinions. He wasn't oblivious to the way Tradewinds tracked the movement with bright blue optics.

"Do you want to travel?" He murmured, trying to get his processors to focus on something other than the warmth of Wing's fingers against his own and the silken feel of Wing's field against his.

"It's never really occurred to me. My family is here, my friends are here. The Citadel has been my home since I came here as a mechling. The thought of leaving has never entered my processor," Wing admitted.

Tradewinds hummed his understanding. "Some mecha always think of travel, most don't. Nothing wrong with being content with where you are."

"I am quite content with my home here." Wing chirred softly, shifting ever so slightly. His footplate brushed against Tradewinds' leg again, watching with amusement at the way the larger mech's wings shivered.

"Wing, please don't," Tradewinds' voice dropped nearly an octave. "I wish to be friends before we are lovers."

The smaller mech blinked. "Oh. Sorry." Wing shifted, moving his pede away from Tradewinds' leg. He didn't pull his hand or his field away, though.

"It's okay," Tradewinds' field and tone betrayed how effective Wing's attentions were at arousing him. "I know you like to flirt. I'd just ... rather not lose my composure quite so quickly," he smiled as he worked to pull himself together. "Why did you decide to become a Knight?"

"I came to the Citadel very young, and the lifestyle here suited me far better than what I had been sparked as," the young jet replied. "When a Marwir offered to train me, I accepted."

"You're lucky then," he relaxed, flaring and settling his wings. "It seems to suit you. Have you ever fought with swords?"

"I did participate in a battle against a large raider force just before Dai Atlas and Axe were Knighted. That was my first true battle with swords. Otherwise, I have sparred with pretty much every other Knight in the Citadel at one point or another. We test our skills against each other all the time." Wing flicked a wing, shifting his Great Sword to a more comfortable position.

"Does that mean something, other than your status?" Tradewinds asked curiously as he picked up a confection with his free hand.

"The Great Swords? They're the symbol of the Knights. We all bear one once we finish our training and are accepted into the Circle. It's hard to explain to a non-Knight just what they are and what they mean." Wing reached up to run his fingers over the hilt, the blue gem glittering at the touch.

"It's not _just_ a sword then; more than a symbol," Tradewinds lifted the confection to Wing's lips.

"Something like that." Wing leaned forward to take the confection, his glossa flicking at Tradewinds' fingers, golden optics lifting to meet the larger mech's blue. He felt as much as saw the rush of desire darken those optics as Tradewinds' field lapped at his with unmistakable intent.

"Just tell me that it doesn't share your berth." Blue optics twinkled with a mixture of arousal and teasing, though he really did want to know.

Wing chuckled. "No, it doesn't. It spends the night in its own brackets. Unless someone jumps me and pins me to the wall." Golden optics sparkled as they met blue. The white jet licked his lips, capturing the last traces of the sweet confection.

"Atl wasn't kidding about you," Tradewinds rumbled, his vents giving a puff of steam as his temperature rose. "Ever played with energon gel?"

"I'm always up for trying something new." Wing's smile was nearly blinding, flicking his wings teasingly.

Powerful shuttle engines revved before Tradewinds caught himself. "Then please save that treat for me."

"If you can catch me tomorrow, as well, then that treat is all yours," the white jet purred.

"Then we'll just have to see how the flight goes," Tradewinds smiled despite his disappointment as he mentally wrote off introducing anything to Wing. "Is there anything you wish to know about me?"

"How did you get into your current trade?" Wing asked curiously.

"As a courier? I was sparked into it," he said easily, his fingers still curled around Wing's as he tried to relax his frame. "A wealthy merchant House commissioned me and educated me. I was good enough at investing my small stipend to buy my contract after twelve centuries."

Golden optics cycled. "Buy your contract? Commissioned specifically as a courier?"

"Almost every sparked mecha has a contract that binds them to whoever paid for the frame and the fees to have that frame sparked until they can pay it off, usually with interest and the cost of supporting and training the mecha added on with interest," Tradewinds explained. "Some mecha know their price, most never bother to find out, but they all have one. Your creators would have bought their contracts out, since they're both former military. Yes, I was designed, sparked and trained specifically as a courier. My range and cargo capacity are both a direct result of my design and the expense that went into building it."

Wing was silent for a moment as he digested that. "I was sparked as a stunt flier, but my original creators threw me out of the clan. And Dai Atlas and Axe were branded traitors by Nova Prime when he refused to accept their buyouts, though Sentinel Prime pardoned them." Slender wings twitched.

Tradewinds squeezed Wing's hand. "I'm sorry your freedom came with trauma and not celebration. Still, you are free to be who you wish to be, rather than beholden to another. So few of our kind are free to pursue a love-match or their spark's desires."

"It doesn't bother me anymore... It happened millennia ago. I have a real family now." White wings ruffled once, then settled. "I'm free. We're free."

"Good," Tradewinds smiled and squeezed his hand again. "It seems that good came of the pain."

"Yes." Wing flattened his armor briefly. "So, after you bought your contract, you chose to stay with what you had been sparked for?"

The light shuttle nodded. "I do love my function. I merely wished to work for my own gain, rather than someone else's that I did not choose. I realized early on that my talent for finance and working the market meant that I didn't need to rely on my creator to protect me from the harshness of the outside world. I could earn my own way, and in buying out my contract I proved it. Now I put my talent for the use of the Citadel as well as myself."

"Makes sense." Wing nodded. "And the Citadel does appreciate the help."

"I have never been left in doubt of that," Tradewinds smiled and offered another confection to Wing's lips, this one a bite-sized jelly dusted with iron. "Vanguard uses his share of my income very well."

"Does he, now." Wing licked the confection from Tradewinds' fingers, his glossa flicking over the shuttle's digits to get all of the iron particles and enjoying the shivers each teasing touch of his glossa generated.

"Mm-hum," Tradewinds hummed, his systems revving up once more. He knew as well as Wing that if he didn't find someone tonight, he'd have to tend to himself. There was no ignoring his charge at this point. "Spends funds the way they should be, making sure everyone has the basics for energon, shelter and medical care."

"Vanguard looks after his people." Wing nodded. He purred softly, savoring the confection, half-lidded optics watching Tradewinds' as they darkened further.

With a low whine the shuttle withdrew his fingers and stood, using every shred of his self-control to keep himself from trembling. "I think I must be going home. It was a pleasure finally meeting you, Wing."

"It was a pleasure to meet you as well, Tradewinds. I'll see you tomorrow." Wing helped himself to another confection, making a show of eating it before rising to his own pedes, only to realize that his date had already vanished. Wiggling his wings anyway for anyone there who might appreciate it, the small white jet all but pranced out of the cafe, taking flight. He arrived home while the family dinner was winding up.

"Losing your touch, little brother?" Sheerwing teased him.

Wing flicked his wings at the bigger mech, trotting over to join his creators and sibling. "Nope. Stubborn possible partner," he replied, hopping into his chair and leaning on the table, greeting Dai Atlas and Axe with a trilling purr and smiled warmly at Steelspark and Lightwing, who flicked the orange beams of his wings in a friendly, playful greeting.

"Just how stubborn can he be when he picked up Cocotte on the way home?" Sheerwing raised an optic ridge at him.

Wing shrugged. "He insists he wants to get to know me before getting into my berth. I was _this_ close to getting him to crack." The white jet held up two fingers a wire's breadth apart. "But he left before he snapped."

"Why get to know you first?" Axe broke into the conversation, catching Lightwing's attention away from his meal.

"He wishes to try and court me," Wing replied, riffling his wings.

Five pairs of optics, three red, one blue and one orange, cycled as he was stared at.

"He wishes to court you," Dai Atlas rumbled, his own wide wings hiking up. "A civilian," came out nearly a hiss.

Wing blinked at Dai Atlas, his audial fins folding closer to his helm. "What's wrong with that? Tradewinds seems like a very nice mech."

Axe thumped his mate's hip, earning a glower. "He doesn't think any civilian knows enough about existence to make a worthy mate for one of his. If Tradewinds wants you enough to withstand the glares, he's fine."

"Tradewinds was more worried about death threats than glares. He'll watch his step around Dai." Wing settled, his audial fins flaring back out to their normal positions.

"Death threats?" Sheerwing chuckled. "Lots of congratulations with muttering in the same breath, but I don't think any of your friends will miss you _that_ much. They've all had their chance to keep you."

"And most are Knights," Axe added with a smirk. "So what is he like?"

"I find him quite nice," Wing replied, his wings fluttering briefly. "Polite, and willing to take the time to get to know me before trying anything."

"Despite your best efforts," Axe chuckled. "Are you planning to let him get to know you without driving him to Cocotte every night?"

"I will try. But I make no guarantees." Mischief sparkled in golden optics.

"That's cruel, little brother," Sheerwing shook his helm. "Remember what happened the last time a mecha wanted to know you before getting in your berth?"

Wing made a face at the younger mech. "Don't remind me."

"He has a point though, Wing," Lightwing got up his courage to speak up. "You aren't short on mecha happy to interface with you. But how many have said they want to _court_ you? Is a quick conquest really worth the future?"

White armor panels rippled. "I will try to keep the teasing to a minimum, as best I can."

Dai Atlas didn't hide his slight smile at that. Two young mecha teaching his much older perpetual mechling to think beyond the moment, at least for a time.

~You find that entirely too amusing,~ Axe glanced at his mate.

~After the non-effect the situation with Lightwing turned into, I never expected Wing to grow up enough to even hear that argument,~ Dai Atlas chuckled privately. ~As much as he's said he wants a mate, he's never acted in a way that he could acquire one.~

~And the two of us did?~ Axe raised at optic ridge at him.

~We were serious by default,~ Dai Atlas countered. ~There is a difference between an overcharged 'face and trying to torment someone into it when they've said clearly that they do not wish to yet.~

~Point,~ Axe winced internally at that perspective of the evening, the events of which Sheerwing had given them a move by move of as it happened via an open comm line with his lover.

Wing gave his creators a _look_, hinting that he knew they were talking about him in a manner he couldn't hear, but said nothing. The white jet fiddled with an energon cube before taking a sip. "Tradewinds invited me to go flying with him after my shift tomorrow."

"A good time for you to show off you skills out of the berth," Sheerwing grinned at him.

"What drew him to ask you out like he did?" Lightwing asked.

"He's interested in me," Wing replied, looking over at Lightwing. "Apparently I'm the reason he decided to settle in the Citadel in the first place."

"Interesting," Dai Atlas hummed. "But _why_?"

"He didn't actually say," Wing admitted, shifting his nacelle pinions. "Something I'm hoping to find out myself."

"I would like to know, soon," the giant shifted his wings in a clear statement that if Wing didn't tell him he'd find out himself.

"Are you interested in him?" Axe asked to deflect some of the tension his mate had created.

Wing blinked, making a note to himself to warn Tradewinds about that. "I'll ask when I go flying with him tomorrow." Golden optics turned to meet Axe's blue. "I'm curious about him. That may become interest after I've gotten to know him better. I've only just actually met him."

"Do keep us in the loop," Sheerwing chuckled. "Better you talk than our creators go _looking_."

Wing nodded. "Good idea. I'd rather they not scare him off." He tilted his helm toward Dai Atlas, who was one of the most intimidating mecha in the Citadel even on a good day. The giant grinned in reply.

SXSXSXSXSXSXSXSX S===================S SXSXSXSXSXSXSXS

Wing stretched, shaking his wings before resettling them. His shift was _finally_ over for the orn. Letting out a soft groan of relief, the white jet made his way out of the control room, heading for the rec room to refuel. He hadn't forgotten the challenge Tradewinds had given him and had been looking forward to it all morning. He'd queried the database as to where Tradewinds currently was, though that didn't mean the shuttle would still be there when Wing arrived. Grinning to himself, he refueled quickly, then ruffled his armor and went a-hunting shuttles.

The first stop was the top floor of a low-lying residential building outside the Knight's Citadel, though still in its shadow and within the protective walls. The balcony doors were open, inviting, and allowed Wing a good look inside the place Tradewinds called home as Wing landed on the balcony, trotting inside. Bright gold optics took in the decor, pausing to admire bits and pieces. . It bore a remarkable resemblance to his own quarters at first glance; wide open and, decorated with objects from across the galaxy.

Twitching his wings, the white jet explored Tradewinds' large, rather lavish apartment, confirming that his quarry was no longer there. He learned a lot about him in the process though, and had little doubt that was the point. First and foremost, he had a much better grasp of Tradewinds' tastes, primarily that he chose to surround himself with objects of great value that were also of great beauty.

Chirring softly to himself, Wing walked back out onto the balcony, pausing to look around before taking flight. Now the fun part began. He saw one of Tradewinds' neighbors across the street lounging on their balcony and belatedly recognized his brother's lover.

The jet ruffled his armor, flying over. "Kaleidoscope! Have you seen Tradewinds around? I'm looking for him."

"Have you checked Starshine Park?" the Kaonite Aerial grinned with the distinct impression that he'd been waiting for Wing to give that message. "He's often working there."

"Thank you!" Wing waved to the blue-trimmed black Kaonite, darting off in the direction of the park. He circled it once, checking out who was there. He couldn't say he was surprised that he didn't see his shuttle, but he did see his own designation created in oddly-shaped white tiles in one of the sitting areas.

Humming curiously, Wing landed next to the sitting area and walked over to examine the tiles. A grin spread over his face as he looked at it and realized he was looking at the backs of a set of puzzle pieces. Large and simple, intended for a young sparkling more than to challenge adults, but that only meant he needed less than a breem to put it together despite the general lack of visual clues on the front side.

Right side up, he realized it was a message from Tradewinds, written in exactingly neat glyphs.

_You wished a hunt_  
_You shall have one_  
_Before you catch me_  
_You will have to know me_  
_Tradewinds_

Wing purred, inspecting the cards looking for clues as to where Tradewinds might have gone next, only to see nothing. This was going to be a very interesting and quite informative chase, and possibly frustrating. Slender wings twitched, a soft hum of mild frustration escaping as he continued to study the message.

A vocalizer cycled behind him, then clicked for his attention. He gathered up the cards and stashed them in subspace before turning to look at the other mech. He recognized Cocotte without an ID ping, even if he'd never used the pleasurebot's services.

"Tradewinds left me with a message for you," Cocotte told him and offered a small datapad.

"Thank you." Wing accepted the datapad with a nod, unlocking it to read the message it contained, absently aware that Cocotte walked away to find his next customer.

_My function's headquarters is where you go next._

White audial fins flared out. Subspacing the datapad, Wing took flight, banking toward his next destination, the storehouses where all the Citadel's supplies were kept. Golden optics scanned the area for any signs of Tradewinds as he flew but not a flicker of his quarry's white was to be seen or sensed.

He set down smoothly and was allowed inside with his ID ping. While he'd spent entirely too much time down here as a Supplicant, he'd managed to avoid the processor-numbing duties for the most part since. Lately his only explorations of the supply storehouses had been to get something he needed. That was still the case, though he had no clue what he was looking for this time.

Wing paused just inside the doors, looking around for any signs or clues as to what he might be looking for. The white jet eased farther in, golden gaze taking in everything around him, looking for any hints Tradewinds might have left. The rows of shelves were neat and ordered, the only movement a mecha working further in.

Each set of shelves held supplies sorted by size and where they were intended to go. Some for personal quarters, others for manufacturing, some waiting to be distributed to other storage areas around the Citadel. Off to one side were crates of newly arrived supplies waiting to be sorted onto the proper shelves.

Wing made his way farther in, optics scanning for anything out of place, anything that Tradewinds might have left for him as a clue. Hearing a mecha moving around farther into the storehouse, the white jet made his way in that direction. The mech, a Supplicant from the look of him, twitched his sensor wings before glancing over his shoulder at Wing with an ID ping request.

"Warehouse 3, he said it's obvious, Master Knight Wing," the Supplicant said before returning to sorting out medical supplies for delivery to Hardwing.

"Thank you." Wing inclined his helm to the other mech, then made his way to the warehouse in question. Picking his way around a stack of crates awaiting sorting, Wing looked around for Tradewinds' clue and spotted it almost instantly. When Tradewinds said obvious, he wasn't kidding.

In a large glowing glyph stuck to a crate was Wing's full, formal designation. Something he hadn't used ... ever, really. Not even when he'd told Marwir his full story after he'd become her Initiate.

The white jet's armor ruffled, his wings shifting against his back plating as he walked over to the crate. He'd almost forgotten his full, formal designation, it had been so long since he'd seen or heard it. How had Tradewinds found out about it? Wing wasn't sure, but it clued him into how resourceful his shuttle was. He didn't know a single Knight, or anyone in the Citadel, who used their full designation, even in formal situations. It was almost always their designation as they'd earned since their arrival. What one had been before the Citadel did not matter here.

Picking up the crate his designation was stuck to, Wing perched himself atop another crate to open it. A datapad caught his attention first, the object under it a box that when he looked at it made his intakes stutter. A box of _wood_.

Very carefully, Wing lifted out the wooden box, holding it up to examine the intricate carvings. Thanks to Titanium he'd seen many beautiful things made of organic materials, but nothing quite like this. Light fingertips trailed over the engravings, tracing the lines and shapes, taking in the delicate designs and the intricacy of the work. Though he recognized very little, it spoke of many worlds, with Cybertron on the lid. When he reached the front his intakes stalled again.

Centered on the face that was half again as long as his hand, was his full designation. Under that, in much a smaller glyph, was 'from Tradewinds' and the shuttle's full formal designation. Below Tradewinds' glyph was another that Wing didn't recognize the meaning of.

Setting the box, unopened for the moment, in his lap, Wing reached for the datapad, unlocking it to read the contents.

_Hello Wing_  
_You listen to strangers with intel_  
_A useful trait on the hunt_  
_A hunt that is going to become more difficult_

_The box is for you_  
_As are its contents_  
_I hope you enjoy them_

_For your next step_  
_Find who I purchased the contents from_

Purring softly, Wing put the datapad down, returning his attention to the box. His fingertips ran once over the engravings before lowering to the edge of the lid. One wing twitching slightly, the jet opened the box, peering at the tightly lidded and carefully wrapped jar of energon gel.

A grin spread over Wing's face. He was looking forward to the end of this chase, whenever it ended. But it would be fun in the meantime. Closing the box's lid again, Wing ran his fingers over the carved glyph he didn't know and pinged the Citadel database for what it meant. For the third time in a breem his vents stuttered when the answer came back.

_Courting Gift_

Rising to his feet, he left the warehouse, the box held securely in one hand. There were several places where Tradewinds could have gotten the gel. Wing just had to find the right one while his processors whirled over how serious Tradewinds much be to spend that many credits on his first gift. It made Wing uneasy too. He had many very nice things, some priceless, but other than his Great Sword, they had all been gifts from Titanium. And now from Tradewinds.

He was in no position to respond with gifts of this quality.

Still, if Tradewinds knew him well enough to know his full formal designation the shuttle must also realize that Wing couldn't reciprocate on this level.

As he walked to the nearest confection shop, Wing's new box got more than a few looks. Wood was beyond rare; a difficult and delicate import from far off world. Most mecha would spend their entire existence without seeing anything of the like. He smiled and indulged their curiosity, though no one got to touch it. So it took him almost three breems to reach Confection's Energon Cafe. It was his favorite place, though he'd never seen Tradewinds there.

"Wing!" Confection chirred a delighted greeting. "I have a new flavor of dusted jelly."

Golden optics brightened as Wing made his way over. "A new flavor? My interest is piqued." Everyone in the Citadel knew of Wing's sweet tooth; he'd been bouncing off the walls and pretty much on cloud nine after discovering that Dai Atlas had learned to make treats and confections at the university in Praxus. Despite the supply at home, it hadn't impacted his buying much.

"A light calcium in the jelly and dusted with sweet copper rust," he grinned and brought one out.

"Sounds delicious." Wing's optics were bright and eager as they fixed on the treat. His free hand eagerly reached out for the confection as Confection grinned and chirred at him, knowing the Knight was good for the price.

Wing eagerly took the confection, taking a bite. White wings fluttered happily, the white Knight almost melting into a purring puddle. "Delicious."

"Good," Confection smiled. "It's always good to please my best customer."

Licking his fingers to get the last traces of dust, Wing purred happily. "I'll definitely be back for more of these. Maybe I'll even save some for other customers." Gold optics looked in the direction from which the treat had been brought, briefly debating whether or not to stay for more.

"You're always good for word of mouth," Confection grinned. "Do you have somewhere to be?"

"I'm looking for Tradewinds... He's leaving me hints and clues, and I'm following them." Wing showed Confection the wooden box. "Right now I'm on the trail of the next clue."

"That's beautiful," Confection murmured, his optics bright. "What clue brought you here? I can't say I've seen him this decaorn."

"There are only a few places where he could have bought this." Wing opened the box to reveal the energon gel inside. "Once I find where he got it, I'll find the next clue." The jet's bright grin gave away how much he was enjoying this hunt.

Confection hummed and delicately lifted the jar from its box to examine it. "I know who made this, if you wish the shortcut."

The white mech's shoulder nacelles perked up. "Certainly. I'll accept the shortcut... I have no doubt that there is still a long hunt ahead of me."

"Her designation is Slipstep," Confection smiled and put the jar back. "She doesn't have a shop, but she lives in the Nilon district," he databurst Wing the location and directions as well as an image of the elder femme. "I'm amazed anyone convinced her to brew again."

"It would have taken me forever to find that out," Wing admitted, flicking his wings. "Thanks for telling me. I'll be back for more of those treats later." The white mech smiled brightly at Confection, then trotted out, heading for Slipstep's residence. With the directions it didn't take him long to find the apartment, a small single-room place on the ground floor. Things that were unusual for a flier.

When the door opened at his knock he understood why. Her wings were grayed past the point of being able to support even her slight mass in flight.

"Ah, Wing," she smiled, her vocalizer buzzing slightly with age that her self-repair could no longer correct. "Tradewinds said you would be by. Come in, little one."

Wing inclined his helm politely, following her inside and refraining from commenting on the 'little one'. "The jar of energon gel he left for me guided me here."

"Yes, he was most persuasive," she clicked in amusement and made her slow way to a chair that seemed quite new and beautifully crafted to support every angle and kibble of her frame. "There are few things a mecha as old as I can be bribed with anymore."

The younger jet chirred his agreement to Slipstep's comment of Tradewinds being persuasive, waiting for the aged femme to settle herself before perching on another chair, folding his wings close to his back. "He is indeed." Wing tilted his helm ever so slightly to the side. "Did he leave anything with you when he left?"

"Information, little one," she chuckled and relaxed into her chair with a relieved groan. "Though you'll have to ask the right question to get the answer you seek."

On a level Wing groaned, but another part of him thrilled at the challenge as he began to chat with her, wiling away almost two full joors before he realized that Tradewinds was waiting in _Wing's_ apartment.

Once Wing received that important bit of information, he thanked Slipstep for it, chatting for a while longer before politely excusing himself. Taking to the air, Wing flew back to his own apartment, greeting other flying Knights as he passed them in the air. Touching down on his balcony, he trotted inside and stopped dead.

The table he almost never used was laid out with a meal fit for one of the finer restaurants in the big cities he'd traveled through so many vorns ago. Solids and liquids combined in ways he'd never been able to fathom but always tasted amazing.

"Did you enjoy your hunt?" Tradewinds smiled at him from near the table.

"It was quite fun." Wing fluffed his armor and wings slightly, walking toward the table. "I do have to wonder how you found out my full formal designation... I haven't used it since long before I came here, many vorns ago. And how you managed to find the wood for the box, I can't even begin to imagine."

Tradewinds chuckled and motioned to the table. "Contacts and credits, and a long familiarity with how to query the databases of Cybertron to get what I want. Dinner, however, is my doing."

The white jet smiled brightly. "It must have taken quite some digging to find my designation, considering how long it's been." Golden optics met Tradewinds' blue, glowing warmly, before lowering to take in the meal laid out for them. "If it tastes as good as it looks, you might get to see me melt into a contented little puddle."

"I have been told I am a better than passable energon chef," Tradewinds held a chair out for Wing. "Your designation is less hidden than you might think. It's actually in the Citadel system. I suspect you can thank your creators for that."

Wing chuckled. "Somehow I'm not surprised. They came across my former clan while they were on walkabout, and I hear they gave my original creators quite an audialful." He accepted the chair, sitting down and waiting for Tradewinds to seat himself.

"Did it feel good, to hear that?" Tradewinds asked as he poured effervescent light energon into something else Wing had never seen; crystal glasses.

"It did, actually. Considering how much it hurt when my original creators threw me out the way they did." White audial fins flared as Wing inspected the glasses, reaching out to very lightly touch one. He was used to drinking energon from cubes. These were unlike anything he'd ever seen before. "This won't break if I touch it, will it?"

"No, they are no more delicate than a cube," Tradewinds trilled encouragement and lifted his own by the thin stem under the steep-sided bowl that held the energon as an example. "They will crush if you try, but not from normal use."

Wing tilted his helm, studying the way Tradewinds held his glass, then carefully copied him, holding the glass up to examine it more closely. "Beautiful."

"It is the most useful part of earning extra credits for me," Tradewinds relaxed and sipped the light drink. "I like to be surrounded by beautiful, quality items and enjoy using them. I understand you spend your credits in much the same way; to enjoy your free time by enjoying what they can buy."

The smaller jet took a bite of his food, humming softly. "Delicious." He tilted his helm slightly. "I too like beautiful things, though most of mine are meant to be admired, not handled." He indicated the pieces of artwork decorating the room, items he'd collected himself and things that Titanium had sent him from the farthest reaches of Cybertronian space.

"Which ones did you select?" Tradewinds asked, honestly curious, though his wings spoke more clearly of his pride that Wing liked his cooking.

"A few of these I bought myself; they were _not_ easy to find. Most were gifted to me by my creator's mentor, who sends them from the farthest reaches of Cybertronian space. And it's not just art he's sent me." Wing nodded toward a small tree in a pot near the balcony doors.

"I gathered as much. I don't think you've ever been off world?" Tradewinds nibbled at his meal. "How old is the tree?"

Wing shook his helm. "No, I've never been off-world. Too dangerous for Knights to venture out into space, since we usually travel alone when we're out of the Citadel on walkabout." He looked over at the tree, watching the sunlight gleaming off the ivory-colored metal-laced trunk, the silver foil leaves, and the delicate gold flowers. "I've had the tree for a little over a decade, I think."

"You're caring for it well then," Tradewinds nodded. "It's rare for an off-world organism like that to survive so long, even if they are one of the rare races that are meant to live so long. Did you cross paths with Solar and Lunar while you were investigating my quarters?"

Wing shook his helm, audial fins flaring curiously. "No, I didn't. And yes, I take good care of the tree." He took another bite, purring at the combination of flavors. "Who are Solar and Lunar?"

"A mated pair of organic avians I managed to acquire some centuries ago," Tradewinds was absolutely preening at the fact. "They've never bred, though they have flourished. Except for once when Lunar was infected with a virus, each time I've had them cloned they survive a solid vorn and a half, more than three times their life expectancy on their homeworld."

Wing's nacelle pinions and audial fins flared out with clear interest. "You have organic avians? Birds? Real ones? I've only seen them in image captures."

"Yes, a pair," Tradewinds trilled excitedly at Wing's reaction. "I would be pleased to introduce you to them after we eat. They are very friendly and accustomed to being handled so long as I make the introduction. I find that they have excellent taste in who they tolerate around them for long."

"I would love to meet them." Wing's optics were wide and bright, his slender wings fluttering behind him.

"Then you will," Tradewinds promised. "Are there any worlds you are most attracted to the products of?"

"I don't have any one planet in particular that I favor." Wing mixed several ingredients on his plate, taking a bite. "There are simply too many beautiful things from too many different worlds for me to choose from."

"Nothing wrong with that," Tradewinds smiled softly. "Did you see anything in my collection that you particularly enjoyed?"

"I liked all of your collection," Wing replied. "There were many things I had never seen before. I would like to have a closer look sometime."

"I'd be happy to give you a full, detailed tour," Tradewinds purred. "Would you return the favor? Your creator's mentor is very widely traveled from the look I've gotten."

"Titan is an old military mech, so he does travel a great deal," Wing agreed. "I can give you the tour later, yes."

Tradewinds trilled into a purr of excitement. "Does he come by often?"

"He comes by when he can. Most of the time he's deployed out in the farthest reaches of our space. Sometimes we don't see him for centuries. When he does come, he brings interesting things back with him, as well as stories," Wing replied. "Last time he was here was about three centuries ago."

"I look forward to meeting him when he visits again," Tradewinds smiled, twitching his wings eagerly. "Just how close are you to the Knights you train?"

"The relationship between a Knight and his Daoshi, the Knight who trains him or her, is very close. Closer than unbonded mates. It's the closest relationship many Knights ever form," the smaller white mech replied, taking in the stunned expression across from him.

"No wonder few Knights are mated that don't arrive that way," Tradewinds murmured. "How many will you train, do you expect?"

"I'm not sure," Wing admitted. "I have already trained Dai Atlas and Dagger. I have yet to meet another Supplicant I feel the need to train. But that doesn't mean I won't, at some point."

"With those two, I'm half surprised you didn't pick Lightwing," Tradewinds commented after a bite of his meal. "He is Dagger's half brother."

"I know." Wing nodded. "Picking one's Initiate is not as simple as some might think. While I do like Lightwing, I didn't feel the urge to train him, like I did with Dai and Dagger."

Tradewinds hummed. "Is that urge anything you can describe?"

Wing shook his helm. "It's very, very difficult to put words to. I just _know_."

The shuttle nodded his acceptance. "It sounds a bit like how I get a feeling about some trades that goes beyond any calculations my processor could produce. Most of the time it's a good processor, the right protocols and a lot of data to build on. But sometimes I just _know_ it's a good or bad idea and I can never quantify why. I've always been right too when I get that feeling."

Wing nodded. "I haven't met another Supplicant that I react to that way. At least not yet."

"You have a long time to find another," Tradewinds smiled, noting that Wing had almost finished eating and only had half his glass left. "Even if you don't, I would hope that training two strong Knights is enough for the Order."

Wing nodded. "That is true... There will be lots of time and there will be more mecha arriving in hopes of joining the Knights." He took a sip from his glass, washing down another bite of the delicious meal. "You are an excellent cook. When did you learn?"

"Thank you," Tradewinds purred, his winds flaring with pride. "It was simple curiosity for the most part. Then my Lord attempted to drug me into signing a bonding contract and I had good reason to learn how my sustenance was prepared so I could tell when it was doctored. It's saved me a few times."

Wing paused. "Someone tried to _drug_ you into it?" He stared at the older mech, astonished.

"It's not that uncommon when politics and other pressures fail," Tradewinds nodded. "When I was able to raise my price so quickly he wanted to keep me in the House to use my talent for his own gain. He was doing his duty in trying everything legal to keep me."

White plating rattled as Wing shuddered at the thought of being drugged into anything. "At least you got away from him."

"Yes," he inclined his helm, though the reaction earned Wing a curious look. "The Citadel has really sheltered you. It is not an uncommon tactic out there. Consent is not valued much in the real world."

"I'm quite aware that my existence here has been very sheltered," Wing agreed. "It's led to some interesting cases of culture shock when I find out what happens out in the world."

"I'm sure," Tradewinds hummed and sipped the last of his energon. "We'll likely have a few more of those moments. I am aware that the standards I know are very different from those here. I have worked out that consent is a big deal here."

"It's a very big deal here," Wing agreed, shifting a wing against his back and watching as Tradewinds stood and walked over to him.

The shuttle leaned down to kiss Wing's cheek plate. "Would you like to meet Solar and Lunar now?"

The smaller jet bounced to his pedes, wings fluttering. "Yes, I would." Golden optics shone eagerly as he followed Tradewinds to his balcony and into the air for the short flight to the shuttle's home. Wing's golden optics took in the larger shuttle's collection, admiring the objects Tradewinds' had on display. Some of them he was itching to get a closer look at. Turning his attention to the larger mech, Wing admired the ornate wings of the shuttle, his gaze sliding down to Tradewinds' aft before moving back up to his wings as they twitched enticingly.

The one door in the apartment that had been closed before slid open to reveal it was also protected by a low-powered force field to keep the environment inside the room in place. With a smile over his shoulder Tradewinds stepped through the field and into a much warmer, humid and oxygen-rich environment. He was almost immediately assaulted by two feathered creatures of mostly white with bright yellow-gold crests, wing edges and tail tips.

Wing jumped slightly, startled by the appearance of the creatures. He fluffed his armor slightly as he passed through the forcefield into what felt like, to Wing, an alien environment. Easing closer to Tradewinds, he stared in open curiosity at the feathered creatures as they settled on the shuttle's left shoulder and turned to stare at Wing in turn.

"Wing, these are Solar and Lunar," Tradewinds introduced the pair. "Solar is the smaller one that's more golden," he lifted his right hand to just in front of the pair for Solar to hop onto. "He's also the less territorial of the two. The males of their kind are the gatherers and chick-tenders. The females are larger to hunt and protect the territory." He explained as he lowered Solar to Wing's optic level. "He'll hop on your hand if you offer it."

"Wow," Wing breathed, lifting his hand up for Solar to hop onto. His optics were almost perfectly round as he stared at the two creatures.

The bird's large, rounded beak tipped one side to another as Solar checked out the offered perch, then hopped over. The jet was amazed by how _light_ the creature was. Mecha and mechanimals had a lot of weight to them due to their metallic natures and their internal systems. Solar's slight weight was barely registering. What Wing really noticed was the soft feel of feathers against his armor so in contrast to the hard claws on its feet.

"Hello Wing. I am Solar," the bird squawked in very acceptable Cybertronian.

Wing's optics went even rounder and wider, if that was at all possible. "He talks!" His slender wings spread out, fluttering slightly.

"We talk," Lunar chimed in.

"They know close to six thousand Cybertronian words now," Tradewinds beamed and fluttered his wings in pride. "Their native language is far more complex than what they can say in ours, though even after this long my understanding of it is still limited."

Solar turned his head all the way around to look at his owner without moving his torso. "Tradewinds speaks well."

A short sequence of organic-sounding whistles and clicks came from Tradewinds' vocalizer in reply.

Wing let out a chirp, though he didn't have a clue what it might mean in "avian". Very carefully, he lifted his other hand to brush his fingertips against soft feathers. "Amazing." Tilting his helm toward Tradewinds, he flared his audial fins in a curious query.

"I said 'thank you'," he elaborated. "They're very intelligent."

"So I see." Wing carefully stroked the soft feathers, marveling at their texture. He peered closer at the sharp claws gripping his armor, noting the scales on the avian's feet.

"They really are a marvel of bio-engineering," Tradewinds smiled as he reached up to gently stroke Lunar's head, pressing down her large yellow-gold feather crest as he did so. "How something so light can be so strong is beyond me. That beak can crack metal, though not armor."

"Beaks for breaking food," Lunar squawked, then added something in her own language.

"I think that is a kind of food," Tradewinds said. "They eat a lot of things with very hard shells on their homeworld," he turned to snag a small roundish object. "These are a good mimic of it."

"They manage it somehow." Wing peered curiously at the object in Tradewinds' hand. "Unable to crack armor or not, I don't think I'd want to be bitten by one."

"We not bite," Solar cawed and ruffled his feathers.

"They are very well socialized," Tradewinds promised. "They like company too. I'd take them out more often but the environment is not healthy for them. Too cold and too little of some gasses they need to breathe. Avians have very strict needs to remain healthy."

"I didn't imply that you did," Wing told Solar, gently stroking the feathered head. He tilted his helm toward Tradewinds. "I'm not surprised Cybertron isn't a good environment for organics. That's why Titan sent me a metallic tree rather than an organic one. An organic one wouldn't survive long." Ruffling his armor slightly, Wing looked from Solar to Lunar. "Are these creatures sentient?"

Tradewinds shifted uneasily. "Probably," he admitted. "But if I report them as such they'll be taken and stuck in a lab to prove it."

"No one will hear about it from me," Wing promised. His nacelle pinions flared and settled, wings refolding against his back. "I would not want to see them in a lab."

"Thank you," Tradewinds' wings relaxed slightly. "When I bought the original pair there were no such laws. I think Sentinel Prime would have outlawed all owning of sentients if it wouldn't have caused the entire nobility and merchant classes to revolt. He angered enough outlawing organic ones."

Wing made a face. "I can just imagine the uproar if he tried, and I shudder to think of it." He smiled brightly as the bird on his hand sidled along his finger. "Thought I have to wonder what happened to all those organics, if keeping them as pets is illegal now. Were they sent back to their planets?"

"Since sentience has to be proven, they went to labs to prove or disprove it," he sighed. "What happened after that ... they were probably put down after being cloned enough times to finish testing, if you want my guess. There aren't many sentient races that live more than a few vorns. Testing takes time."

White armor clamped tight to Wing's frame. "That's horrible. They should have just been let go."

"Let go to what?" he muttered. "Most had never seen their homeworld or another of their own kind unless their owner had them. These two are nearly five thousands generations away from what left their homeworld. I knew many pets that were far more removed than that."

"Oh." Wing digested that for a moment. "Still. To confirm sentience, then destroy them is not right."

"No, not really," he agreed. "Maybe they let them live out their last metacycles. I don't know. But I doubt they bothered, given what they had were clones they created. Probably lied if they're ever asked."

"Probably." Wing gently traced the edge of a feathered wing. "I'd rather not see that happen to these little beauties."

"Neither do I," Tradewinds smiled. "They're sweet and affectionate. They don't deserve to be poked, prodded and tested."

"Tradewinds good mech," Solar clicked. "Good food. Good perches. Good warmth. Good company. Good protect."

"Yes, good mech," Lunar agreed.

"And as long as they continue to believe that, I'll continue to keep them," Tradewinds smiled.

Wing smiled, stroking Solar's chest feathers. "I bet they're good company, too. The only 'pets' I've ever had were common glow beetles. I did get to handle a gyrofalcon with a lame wing once, but it was a mean thing."

"If you get one as an egg and raise it you'll find they are very different creatures," Tradewinds smiled. "Perhaps when I have this pair cloned next vorn you can help raise them with us."

Wing's smile widened. "I doubt I'd have time to raise a gyrofalcon, though it's something to keep in mind. And I would love to."

SXSXSXSXSXSXSXSX S===================S SXSXSXSXSXSXSXS

A metacycle and Wing's orns had settled into a new pattern. Dinner was either with his family or Tradewinds when it wasn't with both. He was still amazed at how calmly and easily Tradewinds handled Dai Atlas' glares and suspicious, pointed questions. Tonight Wing had Tradewinds all to himself, only to be surprised when his suitor only had a cube of fine high grade for him and one for himself.

So now they were on Tradewinds' couch and Wing was snuggled against a warm field that hinted at a bit more arousal than normal.

Wing purred softly, taking a sip of his high grade as he wriggled closer to Tradewinds. Registering the extra arousal in the shuttle's field, he tilted his helm up to look at the taller mech. "Something on your mind?"

"You," he rumbled, looking down before leaning closer to lightly brush his lip plates against Wing's. "Always you."

Wing's purr picked up as the white jet returned the brush of lips, running one palm lightly over Tradewinds' chest. "And you're on mine."

"Finish your energon, Wing," Tradewinds shivered at the touch. "You'll need it."

Golden optics brightened. "I like the sound of that." Wing lifted his energon cube, taking a long, slow sip, his gaze never budging from Tradewinds' face. Hunger was growing there as blue optics darkened, focused on the slide of energon past Wing's lips.

Tradewinds' field crackled as his arousal built. He could feel the brewing desire he'd held in check to claim Wing's frame since he first saw the elegant stunt jet over four vorns before slip its bonds with a rumble of his primary engine.

Wing's field brushed against Tradewinds, expressing his own growing arousal. The white jet made a great show of licking drops of energon from his lips, half-lidded optics watching for the shuttle's reaction. He _felt_ it in that expressive field pulsing against his own.

Then the larger mech leaned in and whispered in his audial. "I understand you're a valve mech with a thing for big spikes."

"You understand correctly," Wing purred in response, wings wiggling slightly against his back. Golden optics gave Tradewinds a teasing glance as dark fingers ghosted over the larger shuttle's plating.

"Good," Tradewinds purred, licking along one audial spike. "Mine's big, and quite unique." His hand slid down along Wing's chest plate. "The only question; do you want to feel it in you, or see it first?"

The smaller white mech debated for only a moment, leaning into Tradewinds' hand. "Show me what you've got," he crooned in response.

Their mouths met, the kiss intense but still chaste. Wing heard his lover's panel slide open and the familiar sound of a spike pressurizing, promising pleasure to come. When the kiss finally ended and Tradewinds drew back a bit, Wing could finally get a look and realized that Tradewinds hadn't been kidding. Trimmed with highly conductive gold, this spike was no simple conical shaft. No, it was ridged, with a slight edge on the downward side of each ripple to scrape against every node inside a valve as the lover's hips drew apart.

Slender wings flared and wiggled as Wing openly admired the larger mech's spike. One hand slid down to lightly trail his fingers along its length, tracing over the ridges and the gold trim. "Most impressive."

"Some upgrades are _well_ worth the effort," Tradewinds shivered and claimed another kiss, this time sliding his glossa along Wing's lip plates when Wing's fingers reached the tip of his spike and the softer, almost spongy material there. "That one means I can press even harder and more fully against that cluster right at the end of your valve," he shivered in anticipation.

Wing purred into the kiss, his lips parting to allow Tradewinds' glossa access. His fingers playfully kneaded the tip of the shuttle's spike before his hand descended along its length again, fingers curling around it and palm scraping lightly over the ridges. "I look forward to it," Wing crooned.

"As do I," Tradewinds shivered in pleasure. His hand traveled lower, sliding over Wing's spike cover before stroking the valve cover. The smaller mech's valve cover opened almost immediately, lubricant already beginning to seep out around the platelets. Wing shivered slightly, leaning into the shuttle's hand.

"So slick," Tradewinds moaned as inquisitive fingers lightly brushed against the platelets, spreading the lubricant around before sliding one finger around the entrance to the valve he would soon stretch wide. "Primus, you're so hot."

A soft moan escaped Wing as he shifted position to give his lover more access. One hand continued to stroke over Tradewinds' spike while the other reached around to explore one of the intricate wings on the shuttle's back. His field pulsed with arousal and invitation.

Ventilations came rapidly as Tradewinds' arousal reached the point where he needed to act on it. His lips once more found Wing's audial spine to nibble on. "I also heard that you enjoy being dominated, the show of strength a larger lover can offer."

Wing's other audial fin wiggled slightly. "Again, true." Playful golden optics lifted to meet blue as dark fingers wiggled into a wing joint.

"Good," Tradewinds rumbled, his frame giving another shiver before he stood and pulled Wing to his feet for a heated kiss as Wing was backed against the nearest wall.

The small white jet returned the kiss eagerly, pressing his back against the wall. His wings were spread and fluttering, engines revving softly, purring loudly. Dark fingers stroked over intricate wings, exploring their planes and angles and seams. The rush of desire he was rewarded with across their fields made him gasp. Then Wing found himself lifted easily by the mech only a helm and a half taller than he was, but _much_ heavier, until their hips were nearly even and that intricate spike was rubbing against his valve platelets.

"Mine," Tradewinds rumbled hotly before driving his spike into Wing in a single powerful stroke.

Wing's legs wrapped securely around Tradewinds' hips, the small jet clinging to the larger mech's frame, bracing his back against the wall. Then Wing's back arched as he was penetrated, helm thrown back until his crest scraped against the wall. A sharp cry escaped his vocalizer, his valve tightening around the intruding length. It felt good, so very good. The ridges felt _amazing_ as his valve was stretched then sank inward only to be stretched again. Where the softer head passed the nodes were massaged in a way he'd never experienced before.

"So tight," Tradewinds shuddered, gripping Wing's hips tightly as he claimed the jet's mouth.

Wing rolled his hips into Tradewinds' as much as he could, hooking his fingers into the bases of the shuttle's wings. His own were nearly vibrating, tips tapping rapidly against the wall. The jet returned the kiss fiercely, moaning into the larger mech's mouth.

The shuttle's hips pulled back and each ridge, trimmed in that conductive gold, sparked in a three nanoklik cycle that made them both cry out.

The jet's whole frame trembled. He had never felt anything like this before. Golden optics flickered as all of Wing's attention turned to the slide of that spike over his valve nodes, the calipers of his valve rippling around Tradewinds' length as it changed in width and texture at every point.

Another kiss and Tradewinds slammed his hips forward again, crushing the spongy head against the very top of Wing's valve and the incredibly sensitive nodes there. His field was wild with arousal, desire and pleasure as he pulled back once more.

"Want to see you overload," Tradewinds rasped as he plunged his hips forward.

It wouldn't take long. Wing writhed against Tradewinds' frame, hips rolling into each thrust, taking that ornate spike as deep as it could possibly go. He shut off his optics, armor fluffing out, engines revving high. Slender wings rattled and tapped against the wall, trembling and fluttering as the charge built fast and high.

In deep. Slow withdraw. In and out that exquisite spike slid again and again, sending jolts of energy and sensation into nodes that rarely felt such stimulation. Against Wing Tradewinds' frame was burning hot as they scraped and writhed, each seeking the release of the long-desired overload.

When Wing reached overload, his shriek actually made it to the ultrasonic range before his vocalizer shorted out. His valve calipers clamped down _hard_, catching the ridges of Tradewinds' spike and holding him still. Charge sizzled across his plating, leaping off onto his lover's frame. A deep, resonant moan escaped Tradewinds at both the sensation and the sight of Wing lost in pure, raw ecstasy. He ground his spike housing against Wing's platelets in as much of a thrust as he could before the feedback drove a roar from him.

Wing screamed again, this time silently as his entire frame responded to the hard charge directed along his entire valve with the explosion of hot, sticky, energy-rich transfluid from that spongy head pressed against the node cluster at the top.

The jet's whole frame bucked, his armor scraping loudly against the wall, his cockpit grinding loudly against Tradewinds' chestplate. His optics flared almost white, fingers digging deeper into wing joints as they rode out the overload, locked together in nearly every sense.

Slow, slowly, they began to come back to themselves and control of their frames. Tradewinds kissed his lover gently, content to remain where they were for the moment. "Worth the wait?" he whispered, nibbling on an audial spine.

"Very much so," Wing responded, his voice raspy and slightly weak as his vocalizer gathered enough charge to work. He was clinging to the larger mech's frame for support, to keep from crumpling into a heap.

"Good," Tradewinds nuzzled him before ghosting his lips over Wing's in another tender, chaste kiss. Carefully he shifted away from the wall, one arm sliding around Wing's aft and the other around his shoulder to support him on the short walk to the berthroom.

Wing continued to cling, his own frame almost limp. Resting his helm briefly against Tradewinds' shoulder, he purred softly as he was carried. White wings flopped loose over the shuttle-mech's arm as hot air continued to vent from under fluffed plating as he was laid down. Tradewinds following him down, covering him, as required by their still locked together frames.

Soft kisses peppered Wing's face, trailed up to his crest and down to his throat. The white jet purred, managing to get his fingers to cooperate. He petted Tradewinds' wings, stroking along their bases, where they joined the larger mech's back. Wing nipped lightly at every part of the shuttle's helm he could reach, purring and trilling softly.

Slowly Tradewinds arched his back as he traveled further down, putting some pressure on the calipers of Wing's valve as his spike tried to pull out. It didn't stop him from kissing along the seam of Wing's chest. The calipers of Wing's valve finally, reluctantly, released Tradewinds' spike, the white jet unhooking his legs to give the shuttle some room to move. Wing purred at the kisses, one hand lifting to stroke and pet Tradewinds' helm.

Those lip plates and glossa trailed down Wing's chest seam, exploring it with more care and attention to detail than Wing had ever experienced. Bright golden optics watched, Wing's purr increasing in intensity. Dark fingertips traced over Tradewinds' crest, finding all the seams and sensitive places that drew sounds of flares of pleasure from the shuttle.

When Tradewinds reached the lower edge of Wing's chestplates he looked up, curious and just a little expecting. Wing tilted his helm, trilling softly. Bright golden optics watched every move Tradewinds made as the shuttle eventually reached up to tap Wing's chest plate.

A slightly uncertain note entered Wing's trill. He wasn't sure he wanted to go that far. Not yet. The white mech shifted uneasily, wings pulling in close.

It caught Tradewinds by surprise, his optics brightening as he took in the shift in Wing's posture. "I didn't think there was anything you didn't enjoy..."

"I've never spark merged with anyone but my creator before," Wing admitted. "And that was the first time anyone has ever touched my spark. The idea takes a little getting used to."

Tradewinds simply stared at him in open shock for a lingering moment before gathering his wits. "Is that ... common here? To avoid spark play until you're committed."

"I'm not sure. It's just... not something anyone has ever asked of me before." Wing's armor tightened against his frame, the white jet looking away.

"Hay," Tradewinds scooted up Wing's frame and tipped his face for a tender kiss. "It's okay. It just surprised me, that's all."

Slowly, Wing relaxed, returning the kiss. "Sorry." He wrapped his arms around Tradewinds' shoulders, his purr becoming audible again.

"You don't need to be," he said gently. "There is no shame in inexperience. I don't desire you for your experience, or lack of it. Just for _you_."

The younger mech's smile widened slightly. "I'm quite experienced with the physical... Just not with sharing my spark. Only Dai Atlas has ever touched my spark, and that was to confirm my position as his creation."

"Then I will be honored when I earn the right to touch it as well," Tradewinds kiss him again, then leaned in to whisper in his audial. "So tell me a fantasy I can indulge you with?"

Wing hummed thoughtfully. "Show me what else you can do with my frame. Make me _scream_ your designation, and ensure that it'll be a half orn before I can walk properly again." His smile was bright and teasing.

"I can do that," Tradewinds grinned back.

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~Love, you might want to see this,~ Dai Atlas growled across the bond with a flash of Wing's unsteady landing. ~Seems he's made his move.~

~Pits have it.~ Axe finally came out of the berthroom, yawning and cycling his optics to get them to cooperate. Blue optics settled onto Wing, noting the way the small white mech was walking. ~From appearances, they had one Pit of a night.~

~I just hope it was nothing Wing will regret,~ Dai Atlas muttered. "Wing," he growled out loud, a tone he'd never used with his creation, either of them, before. "Sit," he jabbed a finger at the table. "You're refueling here, and you're going to _listen_ to me for once."

The little jet froze for a long moment at that tone, blinking at the larger blue mech. Then, meekly, he slunk over to the table and climbed into his seat. "I'm listening."

"Be careful how much you give to Tradewinds," Dai Atlas tone remained firm, though his field gentled out to worry for Wing. "I've met his kind many times. It rarely goes well for the lower-class mecha in the end."

White wings and nacelle pinions fluttered out, a brief look of confusion appearing on the young mech's face. "What do you mean?" He gripped the energon cube Axe passed him as the black and gold Knight took his own seat.

Dai Atlas huffed and sat down heavily. "He's from a powerful House, near-nobility. Out there, it's a _big_ deal," he waved in the general direction of Iacon. "I've contacted a few friends from my military time to check up on him. Every report comes back the same. He gets what he wants and doesn't care who gets hurt in the process. I don't want you to be hurt when he tosses you aside."

Golden optics widened. "But... He's not like that!" Shock flowed and surged through his field.

"He _is_ like that," Dai Atlas insisted. "He's been like that since he was sparked. I have thousands of vorns on him. You are my creation. I _will_ protect you, even if all I can do is avenge you."

Wing just stared at him in disbelief. "But... But... He's been so kind and polite... He's _courting_ me."

"He does that too," Dai Atlas rubbed his temple. "It's some kind of power game he plays with mecha that prefer interfacing to relationships. The mecha that pride themselves on being untouched ... he breaks their seals and then dumps them."

"I don't believe this." Wing shook his helm, wings fluttering in distress. "I _can't_."

"I know," Dai Atlas x-vented roughly and pulled a datapad from subspace. "Read it, Wing," he pushed the datapad towards his creation. "Read it _before_ you give him anything you cherish."

Very reluctantly, Wing took the datapad. His armor clamped tight to his frame as he accessed it, reading the information it contained. His creator wasn't exaggerating. Hundreds of designations over thousands of vorns, dating back to well before he'd bought his contract. Including what Wing couldn't see as anything other than a long list of flat out rape against slaves and servants.

A soft whimper escaped the white mech, his frame creaking as his armor clamped tightly to his protoform. The hydraulics of his wings whined from the tension. "No... no..."

"I'm sorry, Wing," Axe moved around to embrace him while Dai Atlas joined on the other side.

"We just don't want you to be hurt worse," Dai Atlas murmured, regret thick in his field. "I would have brought this to you sooner if I could have."

Wing clung to both of his creators, trying to burrow into blue and black armor. He wasn't sure how he could face Tradewinds now, knowing this. Disbelief, shock, and confusion swirled through his field. "Now what?"

"Now we support you in whatever you chose to do," Axe said gently but firmly. "It's your right to continue seeing him." Dai Atlas' growl earned the larger mech a cuff upside the helm until he settled down. "Even though we think he's a predator. Whatever you chose, you'll chose with open optics and all the information we can give you."

"I hope you're wrong about him," Wing whispered. "I can't believe that he'd want to hurt me. But... I will keep my optics open."

"It's not about him _wanting_ to hurt you," Dai Atlas spoke up. "It's about him not caring if he does."

"I hope we're wrong too," Axe sighed. "I just don't have much hope."

Wing made a soft sound, burrowing closer and turning off his optics, preferring to just cling for a while.

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Wing sat on the roof of the Citadel's highest tower, back pressed against the wall of one of the equipment housings. His armor was almost tight to his frame, nacelle pinions almost completely lowered, knees pulled up to his chest. The white jet stared unseeingly at a storm off in the far distance, his thoughts lightvorns away.

It had been several orns since Wing had found out what Tradewinds' past was like, and he was still struggling to digest it. His processor couldn't quite reconcile the polite, gentle mech with the mech who didn't care who he hurt as long as he got what he wanted. Wing wasn't sure what to do now and he'd been stuck there for joors. He didn't really register the sound of engines coming up behind him, or even landing, until a large white hand rested on his shoulder.

"I didn't mean to disturb you with my request the other night," Tradewinds said quietly as he knelt to sit down next to Wing.

The small white jet jumped, scooting a little farther away from the larger shuttle, eying Tradewinds with more than a little wariness. "That I've gotten over. This... is about something else."

"Will you share it with me?" Tradewinds asked softly, extending his field gently, full of support.

Wing looked at him in silence for a moment, then pulled the datapad Dai Atlas had given him out of subspace. "When I returned to my creators' quarters the morning after we interfaced, Dai Atlas showed me this. I didn't want to believe it." Unlocking the datapad, he shoved it into Tradewinds' hands. "Please explain."

Tradewinds took the datapad and began skimming the contents. He hummed, half disturbed, half impressed. "Your creators really don't approve of me, do they? This is a _lot_ of effort for a place that purports to be a safe haven from your past. I'm not sure what there is to explain. It's accurate."

"Dai Atlas is suspicious of your motives in courting me. He doesn't want to see me end up like any of those other mecha." Wing scooted a tiny bit farther away, his armor clamping tight to his frame. "My creators do not want to see me left spark-broken in your wake."

"That is not my intent, Wing," Tradewinds sighed. "I'm not going to deny my past. Mecha come here for a fresh start. To be judged by their current actions, not their past. I'm _trying_ to be a mecha worthy of staying here."

The little white jet's armor rattled, then slowly began to relax. "My creators just want to protect me. They're still going to be watching you warily."

"I shouldn't be surprised," he smiled weakly. "They must care a great deal for you to go to all this trouble. You're lucky to have them."

"They have been determined to keep me safe since they adopted me." Wing returned the weak smile, relaxing enough to sidle closer again. "Yes, they do care for me a great deal. I'm their creation."

"That doesn't mean much a lot of the time," Tradewinds told him quietly. "I said before that I'd wait until I _earned_ your trust. I can earn their trust too, in time."

"That might take some doing." Wing scooted over until he was leaning against the shuttle's side. "They're old military mecha, and they're suspicious. It will take time for them to come around."

"As long as they haven't forbidden you from seeing me I have time to win them over," Tradewinds slid his arm around Wing and drew him just a little closer as his field settled into a relieved pleasure. "You know them better than I do, but if you think it would help, point out that there are targets here the old me would find _much_ more appealing. You really aren't the kind I like to play with."

"No, they haven't forbidden me from seeing you. It's still my decision." Wing rested his helm against Tradewinds' shoulder, letting out a sigh. "And I doubt it would help much, actually."

Tradewinds chuckled deep in his chest. "Perhaps not for you, but it would be grounds to have me expelled if they were serious enough."

Slender wings twitched, brushing the larger mech's plating. "It takes a _lot_ to get anyone expelled from the Citadel. I would hope it doesn't go that far."

"So do I, but I know mecha who would do far worse for far less cause," Tradewinds sighed. "Including myself, once."

"My creators are Knights. They wouldn't do anything of the sort without a very good reason. At least, I hope they wouldn't." Wing blinked.

"Until they try, we'll just assume the best?" Tradewinds suggested with a nuzzle.

"Don't give them a reason, and things will be fine." Wing returned the nuzzle, purring very softly.

"I have no intention of giving them a reason," Tradewinds promised. "Come fly with me?"

The small white jet's smile widened. "I'd love to go flying with you." Climbing to his pedes, Wing flared open his wings, stretching them to work the kinks out of the control cables, his nacelles warming up as Tradewinds stood to join him in the sky.


	19. Trying Again

Fandom: Transformers G1  
Author: gatekat, ultrarodimus on LJ  
Pairing: Axe/Dai Atlas/Titanus, Wing/Tradewinds  
Rating: NC-17  
Codes: Slash, Historical Setting, Knights of Light, Sticky, Spark, Mechpreg  
Disclaimer: The authors are only playing with their own twisted muses. Transformers belong to Hasbro. Fandom-side, check the inspirations page (gatekat-fics .livejournal 290 .html). We draw from a ton of amazing stories and authors you should read.

**Kneeling to the Sword 19: Trying Again**  
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Titanus stood in the courtyard of the Citadel of Light, stretching wings and tailfins and revving his turbines, making sure everything was in working order. He'd gotten Hardwing to look his systems over the night before, just in case. Nothing wrong with being careful.

Two orns before, he'd gotten a call from Dai Atlas and Axe, asking him to drop by. The teleporter had joined them after making his last delivery of the orn, wondering what was going on. Axe had explained that Dai Atlas' creator protocols had kicked in again, and the former General had chosen Titanus as the sire, hoping for a calmer, less militant spark. The black Knight was of the opinion that seeing Shogun and Stormcloud's new sparkling, a little femme designated Illusion, had helped provide a kick-start for his own mate's protocols.

The teleporter had been honored to be asked, and had readily agreed. The arrangements had been made for the flight, and the participants given enough time to prepare. Now it was time, and Titanus ran through his last system checks before turning his attention to Dai Atlas and Axe. It was going to be very different from last time. All three of them would interface, though Axe would not be involved in the spark merge that kindled the new spark.

Even though it was no contest, he'd been warned that it wouldn't be any easier to catch Dai Atlas. Protocols still demanded the unbonded mech prove himself a worthy sire.

Gold-streaked wings flared wide, white-and-charcoal armor puffing out showily. Level blue optics met Dai Atlas' red for an instant before the older mech was airborne.

Dai Atlas' field was wild, aroused in a way that was familiar to Titanus but very weird to Axe. Then the ancient mech was off, his powerful engines lifting him past the top of the powers far faster than most anticipated.

Hot engine exhaust swept across the courtyard as Titanus and Axe launched at top speed, their turbines howling. Ignoring the crowds gathering to watch, the teleporter was off in hot pursuit of his quarry with Axe on his wing. All their attention was on the blue-armored frame ahead of them. Titanus was drunk on the protocols calling him and Dai Atlas to reproduce. It gave him a competitive edge for endurance and reflexes, but much of that energy came from the power-hungry processors that governed his higher functions.

Nearby, Axe had no such hindrances or advantages. He was not flying to kindle. He did not have the protocols to be affected by his mate's state, though the lust and need to interface pouring across their bond did.

Even with only one actual pursuer chasing him, Dai Atlas was not going to make it easy. His engines powered him to the edge of the atmosphere well ahead of the pair, angling towards the smaller moon still far overhead.

Powerful jet engines howled as Titanus quickly hit full throttle, his entire focus narrowed to the blue shape ahead of him. Slowly, the distance between them was shrinking, the remaining processor power the teleporter possessed calculating how best to make up time on his prey. It took him well over a klik to recall the rules placed on his teleporting, then to recall that he actually _could_ teleport. Diverting some power from engines to processors, Titanus teleported several lengths ahead, still well behind Dai Atlas but in a better position to perhaps catch up without needing to teleport again. It just used too much power, which was better used in his engines and control surfaces.

Axe was now well behind him, and Dai Atlas dropped the extra power into his engines he'd used to break the last serious clutches of the gravity well of Cybertron. The smaller giant was still well ahead of him, but he was closing fast as they approached the smaller moon.

Titanus made a soft rumbling sound to himself, angling his flight path to intercept Dai Atlas'. His long wings were trembling eagerly as he closed in, even though he _knew_ the flight was only just beginning. The hard part would be actually _catching_ the much older mech. He'd made it clear that he wasn't going to make catching him any easier than the first time, despite only having one pursuer.

Dai Atlas _needed_ the sire to be strong, fast and clever on a level that no amount of intellect or logic could counter.

A string of data from his proximity sensors behind him eventually got Titanus' attention as he closed in on Dai Atlas near the border of the moon prison and he realized that Axe was no longer in range.

Humming in puzzlement, Titanus spared some processor space to flick his sensors out behind him, wondering where the black and gold Knight had vanished to. He was aware that Axe was no slouch in the air, quite fast and agile. The black mech should have been right on the teleporter's tailfins by now.

A flick of a wing altered Titanus' flight path slightly, making slight course adjustments to catch up with his elusive quarry. It took another klik to catch up, adjusting his course to match Dai Atlas' speed and attitude. Now the hard part would begin.

As they came around the curvature of the moon, the second one in sight, something large and dark slammed into Dai Atlas with the effect of a freight train, sending him, and whatever hit him, tumbling into space.

Titanus had managed to pull close to the blue giant, his entire focus on catching Dai Atlas. Caught by surprise at the sudden appearance of the other flier, he squawked and instinctively teleported out of the way, losing ground. Spitting a curse he'd picked up while making a delivery to the mid-levels of Kaon, he pushed his engines to make up the ground he'd lost, streaking after his quarry and whoever had slammed into the blue mech.

As he got close, a process much faster than he'd anticipated, he realized the dark object tangled with his quarry was Axe.

So _that_ was where Axe had vanished to. Titanus grinned to himself. Clever trick. The teleporter drew even with them, orbiting them once before closing in, ready to end the chase. Watching the smaller black and gold mech work his spike in and out of Dai Atlas' valve, the larger mech with his back arched forward and hips thrust back, moaning eagerly in the silence of space as he sucked on Axe's fingers.

Titanus had to laugh at what he saw when he closed in. One wing flicking, he closed in to join them, reaching out to glide dark gray hands over blue plating, curling one leg around Dai Atlas' for added stability. He wasn't sure it qualified as a catch, since his quarry had apparently completely forgotten he was actually being chased, though. Not that it seemed to matter to Dai Atlas. The blue giant's chestplates unlocked at Titanus' touch, his spike full and hard between them as Axe pulled his fingers from his mate's mouth.

::He gets off on a bit rough,:: Axe purred across a private comm. ::He likes to _feel_ that his lover is strong enough to protect him when he lets go.::

::Good to know,:: the teleporter replied, his own chestplates unlocking. Aquamarine light shone out between the parting plates as Titanus nipped at Dai Atlas' cheek armor, shifting his position and guiding the blue mech's spike into his valve. Titanus' powerful engines revved, vibrating through all three mechs as he pressed his frame against Dai Atlas', one hand reaching back to stroke Axe's dark armor as well as the smallest of the three drove the physical interface.

In response to the spark energy so close to his Dai Atlas parted his armor, exposing the deep red spark, swirling with energy and driven by protocols even the ancient mech couldn't control. His chamber spiraled open, eager to be enveloped by another spark and draw back with enough energy to spin off a new life to support.

Titanus' spark reached out of its opening casing, blue-green threads twining with red, drawing the sparks together. The teleporter moaned deep in his chest, his hips bucking hard against Dai Atlas, taking his thick, long spike in deeper. White wings flared and trembled as two sparks combined into a purplish orb, energy flowing between them. One hand raked down Dai Atlas' side, skimming over armor seams and sensitive plating.

Despite having some experience on what to expect, the abrupt connection to Dai Atlas, the full impact of just how strong-willed the mech was, sent Titanus' processors reeling. The hunger in that large red spark was daunting, but far more than that was the comprehension, slower and undesired, at how much Dai Atlas was still burdened by his long existence. _Burdened by God_ was entirely too accurate a translation, even if it was not the one most thought of.

White wings stiffened behind him as the large flier braced himself so as not to be pulled in, taking a moment to get his mental balance back. Tilting his helm, he brushed his lips against the blue mech's, his valve rippling and squeezing around the spike buried to the hilt inside. It wasn't long before pleasure overrode history in the merge and Dai Atlas kissed him back, embracing him and holding him tightly.

Dai Atlas' spark cried out with need, to be gifted with a means to balance the crimes that Dai Atlas has long ago thought he'd atoned for and accepted his place in. Gone was any familiar ground for Titanus as that great red spark pushed inside his own, burrowing fully into the very core of his life force and drawing energy from it.

Titanus kept just enough processor power to keep the merge from going all the way to the core, returning the kiss. One hand found Dai Atlas' wing, running along its length, exploring the flat planes, and making sure to find every sensor along the way. His other hand ran over Axe's black plating, finding an armor seam and slipping the tips of his fingers inside. The big flier shifted his hips slightly, changing the angle minutely. He was barely aware of gravity attempting to re-exert a hold on the trio, firing his thrusters just enough to maintain a more or less stable position.

::Give over to the merge,:: Axe encouraged. ::I'll keep us safe.::

Dai Atlas was already lost to the merge; the pleasure and the drive to procreate that had brought him here. Across the merged sparks was a demand for Titanus give up more spark energy, to give as much as he dared for the strength of the new life.

In his life Titanus had spark-merged only twice before. His whole frame quivered briefly as he surrendered to the merge. He would give as much as he could. Blue optics flared a bright blue-white, armor plates flaring to expel some of the building heat away from his systems with the air. Dark fingers tightened on the leading edge of Dai Atlas' wing, setting off the sensors left and right. He felt the sharp pleasure-pain and how _good_ it felt to Dai Atlas.

Consciousness drifted on the edge of blacking out, only the survival protocols that kept him from surrendering his entire spark kept him awake enough to manage to hold onto himself. In the very back of his processor he was glad he wasn't the first to catch Dai Atlas. Titanium had the will and experience to control this and teach Dai Atlas what should happen.

Then ... it was over. Titanus' spark and processors were his own again. Dai Atlas was no longer broadcasting the protocols calling mechs to mate with him.

::Rest,:: Axe's comm was gentle, reassuring. ::I will protect us.::

The big teleporter managed a mumble of agreement at that, clinging to the other two to keep from drifting away. His chestplates settled back into place, the gold glass of his cockpit scraping against Dai Atlas' armor. Blue optics flickered once, then darkened.

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Wing had spent a couple of joors darting about between the towers of the Citadel, hoping to work off some of the nervous energy that had taken hold of him. Just before the mating flight had begun, Wing, like all the other fliers in the Citadel, had returned to the ground, the little white jet going from flying to restless pacing. Tradewinds had found him atop the residence tower he lived in, watching the trio of large mechs streaking toward space, wings fluttering and flaring behind him.

"You don't have to wait alone," Tradewinds put his hand on Wing's shoulder much like he had vorns earlier after Wing had learned of Tradewinds' past.

Wing jumped, startled. "Oh. Hi." He leaned against the larger mech, optics lifting back to the sky. "I would gladly welcome some company... This is the second time I've watched Dai lead a mating flight, though the first time there were five mechs chasing him and Axe stayed on the ground."

"I heard about that one," Tradewinds smiled and kissed the top of Wing's crest. "Do you know if his choice this time is because Titanium couldn't make it back, or if he's going for different traits?"

"He's going for different traits," Wing replied, purring at the kiss. "Titanus isn't military... He's much calmer and has none of the military programming. Dai is hoping that the sparkling will turn out less aggressive than Sheerwing did. And the sparkling might inherit Titanus' ability to teleport."

"Which would be quite a coupe for him," Tradewinds chuckled, drawing Wing against his chest and inside his field that was rich with amusement and the arousal Wing always inspired in the shuttle. "Can I distract you, say in my berth?"

"A teleporting sparkling would certainly be interesting to raise, though Titanus says the ability doesn't develop until the sparkling is at least a youngling, and they're mature enough to handle it," Wing replied, then snorted. "Or at least easier to rein in!" White armor ruffled. "And yes, that would be quite an effective distraction." He leaned against Tradewinds' frame, purring.

"Then let's go," Tradewinds purred before catching Wing's mouth in a searing kiss. Turbines revved as Tradewinds let Wing go and leapt into the air.

The white jet's wings flared open as he leaped into the air, following the shuttle. He flew close to Tradewinds, their wingtips almost touching from time to time. Wing spared the occasional glance upward, though the three giants had already passed well out of his optic range.

Three steps into Tradewinds quarters and Wing's attention was focused on his lover's arousal, the play of a field rich with desire for him against him plating as the larger mech drew him towards the berthroom that was full of good memories for Wing.

"I'll make you forget about everything but screaming my designation until your vocalizer shorts out," Tradewinds rumbled.

"I like the sound of that," Wing purred, fluttering his wings playfully at the bigger mech. He eagerly leaned against Tradewinds' plating, allowing himself to be led to the exquisitely soft and sensuous berth he'd spent more time in than his own since his first night there.

"Good," Tradewinds claimed his mouth in another kiss as he fell back onto the berth, drawing Wing down on top of him.

Wing purred into the kiss, stroking his palms over Tradewinds' chest. One leg shifted against the shuttle's, footplate rubbing against the larger mech's shin. "What've you got in mind?" Gleaming golden optics lifted to meet bright blue.

Strong white hands slid up Wing's back to pull him down for a molten kiss. "For you to _use_ me," he rumbled hotly, every inch of him electrified with desire for the jet in his arms and the pure, shameless sensuality that Wing brought to everything he did.

The small white jet's purr deepened as he shifted over the shuttle, his pelvic plating grinding slowly against Tradewinds'. Wing returned the kiss with equal heat, nipping at Tradewinds' lower lip, glossa exploring the depths of his mouth. Agile black fingers slid into armor seams, brushing over the underlying circuitry.

As shameless as Wing was in pleasure, it drew that same freedom to Tradewinds and he moaned, shivering at the touch and at being desired for something other than his talent for earning credits or ability to forget anything resembling morals when it was convenient. For the first time in his existence, Tradewinds felt _cared_ for because of himself. He was more than willing to give everything to this mech that created that sensation.

"Wing ... please..." Tradewinds begged, his wings quivering and his entire being pleading for command.

One dark hand slid down Tradewinds' torso, slipping between their frames to trail slow, teasing circles over the larger shuttle-mech's valve cover. "Open for me." Wing crooned, his voice low and sultry.

Tradewinds shuddered and obeyed, his legs spreading and hips rolling up to offer himself more fully. With their fields so close and meshed, the heat coiling inside the shuttle at the mere thought of what was coming flooding into Wing as Tradewinds whimpered a wordless plea.

The white jet trilled as his fingers slipped inside, two fingertips pressing through the soft platelets into the inner passage. One brushed over a sensor node, the pad of the fingertip rolling slowly over it for a long klik before working deeper into the larger mech's already slick valve. Tradewinds' hips rocked into the touch as his valve tightened around the fingers to coat them. Strong calipers cycled, trying to draw the fingers in deeper.

"W-Winggg..." Tradewinds moaned, his fingers digging into Wing's wing joints as his vents opened fully and fans kicked up a notch.

"Yesssss?" Wing drawled, watching his lover's responses through bright, half-lidded optics. He continued the slow exploration of Tradewinds' valve, locating and stimulating each sensor node as his fingers found them, as deep as he could reach.

Ragged panting was all Tradewinds could manage for a long klik as his frame reacted to the pleasure being delivered onto it. "Your spike, please lover."

"You want my spike in there?" Wing slid his fingers in as deep as he could reach, spreading them wide and dragging them down the walls of Tradewinds' valve as slowly as possible, fingertips running over every sensor node in their path.

"Yesss!" Tradewinds keened as his valve lining spasmed and calipers caught to close around a solid object that wasn't there. Bright blue optics looked at Wing in desperation. "I want to feel your spike stretch me, feel your transfluid rush against my nodes. Want _you_."

Slowly, torturously slowly, Wing withdrew his fingers from Tradewinds' valve. Keeping his optics on the shuttle's face, he lifted his hand to take his fingers into his mouth, making a great show of licking and sucking off the lubricants. A purr escaped as he savored the flavor. Tradewinds' optics locked onto the movement. His vents stuttered now and then as he whined.

Eventually he got enough processor together to reach for Wing's hips and rub his thumb over the still-closed spike cover. Wing purred deeply, rolling his hips into the contact. His spike cover slid open, his spike slowly pressurizing out of its housing and into the waiting fingers. Tradewinds slowly rolled his thumb around the tip, then slid down the underside to stroke the housing.

The white jet moaned softly, his hips shifting into the touch. Slender white wings fluttered out behind him. Pressing one palm against Tradewinds' torso armor to brace himself, Wing shifted to settle between the larger mech's legs, his gaze never leaving his lover and the pleading expression fixed on him.

"Please..." Tradewinds whined, his frame shaking and valve cycling around empty air. "Fill me, lover."

"Since you asked so nicely..." Wing shifted his hips, sliding his spike into Tradewinds' valve as slowly as he had his fingers, teasing the bigger mech. A deep vibrating purr ran through his frame as he slowly hilted himself, pausing for a long moment before beginning to move. Under him Tradewinds moaned and rolled his hips into the slow thrust, trying to take him in deeper. Around him Tradewinds squeezed and shivered.

"Wingggg," he moaned, shameless and encouraging.

Wing moaned softly, trembling slightly. Drawing back his hips as slowly as he had pressed in, he held still a moment, just to tease his lover, before thrusting back in just as slowly. It was a delicious torture for both of them as each movement of sensor node against pressure.

Tradewinds' hands finally found Wing again, drawing him down and into a kiss as Tradewinds curled his frame upwards.

Returning the kiss, Wing maintained the same torturously slow pace. His hands ran over Tradewinds' armor, reaching down to grasp and stroke the larger shuttle's elaborate wings. Dark fingers stroked along the panels, into the seams and around the control surfaces, wiggling into sensitive wiring until Tradewinds was a puddle of desperate pleasure.

"Tease!" Tradewinds gasped, his entire frame quivering with the building charge from his rarely-stimulated valve.

"You know it," Wing purred in response, smiling devilishly down at the larger white mech. It wasn't often he was on the giving end of the teasing, but it was very fun when he was. His valve didn't even mind being empty when his spike felt this good, and his lover so very much wanted it.

"Please, love," Tradewinds begged shamelessly, his hips undulating in an effort to drive the thrusting faster.

Wing leaned down to deliver a fiery kiss, sparks actually leaping from his lips onto Tradewinds'. The white jet finally picked up the pace, his thrusts coming faster and harder, footplates scraping against the berth for added leverage. Each slide sent sparks between spike and valve, drawing keening moans from both lovers.

Tradewinds grasped Wing tightly, holding him close as he began to lose control. The garbled sound that came from the shuttle's vocalizer may have been Wing's designation, but it was hard to tell.

Wing voiced a sound that was part moan and part purr, bracing himself, thrusting hard into Tradewinds' valve. He was cycling air as fast as his vents could manage, trying in vain to cool his internal systems. His plating struck sparks against his lover's, leaving streaks of red here and there that neither cared about with the mounting bliss.

It was only a moment longer and Tradewinds' valve clamped down on Wing's spike as he roared his overload, energy jumping from his frame to Wing's.

Wing overloaded with a keening shriek, throwing back his helm and arching his back to drive his spike all the way in. Energy cascaded through his systems, cracking over his plating as transfluid burst from his spike, flooding Tradewinds' valve and driving the shuttle's overload even higher.

Their frames were steaming, armor pinging as it cooled, when they came back to themselves some kliks later. Tradewinds hummed in post-overload contentment and nuzzled the purring jet sprawled on top of him.

The little white jet returned the nuzzle, rubbing his cheek against Tradewinds'. He was flopped across the shuttle's frame, almost completely limp. Slender wings flopped open, tips touching the berth. Wing was completely disinclined to move for the moment, content to stay right where he was.

"Have you ever thought about kindling one of your own?" Tradewinds murmured.

"I've never given it a thought," Wing admitted, turning his helm to meet Tradewinds' gaze. "I figure I'll have a sparkling one day, but not till I find the right mech to sire it, and I'm at least a bit more mature than I am now."

Tradewinds chuckled and slid a finger down Wing's nose. "I hope you never get too much more mature. You're too sweet now to lose."

"Then it might be a very long time until I have a sparkling of my own," Wing replied, nipping playfully at the larger mech's finger.

"A fair trade," Tradewinds purred and leaned up to snatch a kiss. "I'd rather have you as you are."

"Plenty of time in the future to mature a bit, then think about sparklings." Wing returned the kiss. "Right now, I'm happy the way things are... And with teaching my younger siblings how to drive our creators right up the wall." His grin spoke volumes of mischief and caused Tradewinds to laugh.

"Siblings and their Initiates, I think," he smirked up at Wing. "I'm guessing none of you are likely to take one on while there's a youngster around?"

Wing's grin widened. "There is a bit of plotting, though it's all harmless fun. To get Dai to lighten up and laugh now and then. Sometimes we get Firefly involved, and we're already anticipating when Illusion will be old enough to join in. And no, none of us will take on an Initiate when there's a youngling around."

"Then I'll have a while longer before I have to really share you," Tradewinds purred in pleasure. "I can't say I'm looking forward to having to share so much of your time. It'll be a challenge, watching you be more dedicated to another for centuries."

The young jet fluttered almost limp wings. "Lovers are important, but so is family. And training the next generation of Knights. My creators managed to make it work when Dai was an Initiate and Axe still a Supplicant. We can manage, too."

"I'm going to do my best," Tradewinds promised seriously. "It's worth the effort for something that important to you."

SXSXSXSXSXSXSXSX S===================S SXSXSXSXSXSXSXS

Usually, Titanus would give at least some warning when he was on his way to the Citadel, so that Dai Atlas and family would be ready for his arrival. This time, the big teleporter clearly had something else on his mind. He popped out of nowhere just inside the balcony doors of the giant Knights' quarters just as the family dinner was wrapping up, managing to startle everyone in the room.

Axe was just about to ask if something was wrong when the ecstatic grin on Titanus' features registered.

"What's got you all excited?" Sheerwing cocked his helm.

"Nothing wrong at all," Titanus replied, walking forward once he was sure that the shock had worn off and he wouldn't be getting swatted. Startling old military mecha was a bad idea at the best of times. "Very much a surprise and extremely unexpected, though."

"Well spill it, Poof," Dai Atlas rumbled, his spark and valve swirling in anticipation of what the teleporter's arrival usually meant.

The teleporter's grin widened, white and charcoal armor fluffing. The nic went right over his helm that time. "Apparently you're not the only one who's carrying, Dai."

Several sets of optics cycled, but it was the golden set that steadied first. "Twins?" Wing squealed.

"Technically..." Dai Atlas recovered next. "Though not the normal kind..." he focused on Titanus. "You're sure it's mine?"

"You were the first mech I've spark merged with in over a century," Titanus replied. "I'm unmated, and I don't have a steady lover. So unless Primus has seen fit to spark me, I don't see who else's it could possibly be."

"Wow," Axe murmured, his processors turning that over even as Wing launched at Titanus.

"You're going to make sure they know each other right?" Wing demanded. "You should move here. It's safe and with his brother and _safe_."

The biggest flier caught the little white jet, his hand finding the sweet spot right between slender wings. "I intend to ask Vanguard if I can take up residence in the Citadel once I can no longer fly, until my sparkling is old enough to fly. And yes, I do intend for it to know its siblings, and its sire." Titanus' blue optics flicked over to meet Dai Atlas' red.

"Good." Wide wings relaxed, having hiked up in pre-aggression without Dai Atlas realizing it. "I'd rather you come sooner," he added. "If teleporting is draining on you, it could be dangerous to the newspark ... if you aren't in peak condition before you jump."

Titanus nodded. "I'll probably stop teleporting within the next couple of metacycles or thereabouts. I don't want to risk harming the sparkling. It will take some time to make arrangements, since I'm very much in demand as a courier, and there will be quite a few mecha put out when I become unavailable for the better part of a vorn."

"Don't let them bully you," Axe went serious. "This is too important to give into threats. No one is that important."

White wings flared. "I don't intend to let them bully me. The sparkling comes before their petty demands. I won't let their greed put this new life in jeopardy. If they get too persistent, I might be moving into the Citadel sooner than expected."

Wings and frames all around the room settled at the fierceness of the assurance.

~Love ... though it's carried in another frame, this is still my sparkling too,~ Dai Atlas reached out for his mate.

Agreement reached back through the bond. ~As long as Titanus is agreeable, my love. I look forward to getting to know both sparklings, watching them grow, and watching Wing and Sheer teaching them all the mischief they've come up with over the vorns.~

With a slight smile Dai Atlas stepped forward and drew Titanus into a hug. "Axe and I would invite you to join us until they are fully upgraded. We would have yours be as much _our_ creation as the one I carry is yours."

The bigger mech shifted Wing up onto his shoulder, a hum of surprise escaping before melting into a purr. "I accept, and gladly." He returned the hug, one arm curling around Axe as the black and gold Knight came over to join them. Wing chirred happily, all but bouncing on the large white shoulder. Out of the group hug Sheerwing hung back, but he still smiled at his creators' happiness.

"Good," Dai Atlas rumbled and kissed Titanus' cheek. "Will you share our berthroom?"

"As long as I'm not intruding and nobody minds, I will. Though I should probably find my own room as well... Rumor has it you're a terror when carrying grounds you, so a place to retreat to might be prudent." Titanus flicked his audial antennae.

"It's true," Wing nodded seriously, much to Dai Atlas' annoyance and Axe's chuckle.

"Only after I start showing and it interferes with my performance," Dai Atlas grumbled. "Military-grade survival protocols don't handle being grounded very well."

"Understatement of a lifetime," Axe snickered before he straightened. "Seriously though, it's a good idea ... and I'd set your teleporting emergency protocols to pop you to your private apartment here if it looks like he's tensed up to hit."

"I'm not _that_ bad," Dai Atlas scowled.

"Yes you are," Wing and Axe replied in unison.

The big white and dark gray mech nodded. "I will keep that very much in mind. Thank you for the warning." He inclined his helm to Axe. "I would like to keep from teleporting as much as possible, but it is the best way to get out of swatting distance quickly."

"Very much so," the smallest of the giants nodded seriously. "I _doubt_ it will happen, but..."

"I'm always a single misfired synapse away from it once I'm grounded," Dai Atlas admitted. "That is metacycles away though. I'm no more unbalanced than normal until I start to show. Now ... did you have somewhere to be tonight?"

Titanus shook his helm, blue-black pseudo-hair shifting over his shoulder armor. "I've cleared my backlog of deliveries and I don't have anywhere to be for another two orns. My business transponder is set to 'frag off and I'll get to you when I'm good and ready', so no one I don't want to hear from will be able to reach me. Nowhere to be and no reasons to leave."

"Good," Dai Atlas rumbled and tipped Titanus' helm towards his for a molten kiss. "Because I want you in our berth and _fully_ enjoy your frame."

The taller mech returned the kiss, responding with a deep, rumbling purr. "Sounds like fun." He was vaguely aware of Wing hopping off his shoulder with a warm trill, no doubt off to spread the news that not one but two new sparklings would be separating in less than a vorn.

SXSXSXSXSXSXSXSX S===================S SXSXSXSXSXSXSXS

"Lover," Tradewinds purred as he pinned Wing against the wall of his apartment, his mouth on the smaller mech's and his hands moving eagerly down Wing's sleek frame.

"Hello there," Wing chirred, reaching around Tradewinds' side to slide his fingers into a wing seam. One footplate brushed lightly, teasingly, against the shuttle's shin.

Tradewinds moaned into their kiss, his wings flaring before pressing forward and fluttering. His spike extended between them, rubbing against Wing's groin plate wantonly.

The smaller white mech laughed, lifting one leg to wrap around Tradewinds' thigh. His valve cover slid open, Wing shifting his hips to rub against the shuttle's leg, smearing lubricant over white armor. As hot as they both were Tradewinds wasted no time in sinking into Wing fully, drawing a ragged moan from each of them.

Strong hips were soon driving into Wing, pressing him against the wall and up with each thrust.

Wing gripped Tradewinds' shoulders, bracing his back against the wall and wrapping both legs around the larger mech's hips, his own hips rolling into each thrust, taking the shuttle's spike in deeper and changing the angle slightly. Tilting his helm, the white jet nipped at the cables of his lover's neck, purring roughly, his mouth vibrating against the sensitive cabling.

Tradewinds' helm fell back in a combination of pleasure at the nipping kisses, offering his throat to his lover, and the roiling bliss that was building from his spike to surge through his circuits at random. It all felt _so_ good. Once more he was reminded that he'd been right; Wing was worth the sacrifices to have him.

The smaller white mech's dentas closed lightly on an energon line, his valve rippling against Tradewinds' spike. Slender wings flared out against the wall, Wing's hands stroking over the planes of the shuttle's elegant wings. As wound up as he was, it was all it took to push Tradewinds over the edge with a bellow. His entire frame drove his spike as deep as it would go inside his lover as hot, thick transfluid rushed through it and into Wing.

Wing's hips bucked as Tradewinds' overload triggered his own, his valve clamping down on the shuttle's spike, milking out every last drop of transfluid. The jet keened against his lover's neck, fingers hooking into an armor seam, lightly catching in the circuitry underneath. They rode out the bliss together, enjoying every nanoklik before gradually sinking back to reality.

Tradewinds nuzzled his lover's neck before catching a kiss. "Feel like trying something new?"

Gold optics met blue, brightening curiously. "Something new? What did you have in mind?" He idly stroked the back of Tradewinds' neck, under the edge of his helm.

"Play with my spark chamber," the shuttle shivered in excitement.

White audial fins flared open. "Your spark chamber? How so?"

"Come to my berth and I'll open my chest," he leaned in for a kiss. "You touch, feel, get used to the idea."

Wing chuckled. "You're either going to have to wait for my legs to decide to cooperate again, or carry me to the berth." He unwrapped his legs and lowered his pedes back to the floor, latching onto Tradewinds' armor as he tried to get his balance.

"Which we both know you'll recover quickly," Tradewinds groaned as his spike slid free as it retracted. "But I'll hold you as long as you want me to," he leaned in for another kiss.

The smaller mech returned the kiss, purring warmly. Finally getting his balance back, he bounced in the direction of Tradewinds' berthroom, fluttering slender wings and giving the shuttle a "come hither" look over his shoulder. Tradewinds laughed and ran after him, catching up at the door and tackling Wing to roll with him onto the singularly exquisite berth to settle with Wing sprawled on top of Tradewinds' frame.

"My playful little jet," Tradewinds purred, stroking down Wing's sides.

Wing grinned brightly down at him, working his fingers into a seam along Tradewinds' side. Light fingertips brushed the edge of a relay, then discovered a sensor cluster. His lover moaned before catching Wing's black hands and drawing them to rest on the shuttle's abdominals.

Without a word Tradewinds unlocked his chest plates and slowly parted them. As the light in the room dimmed on command, the rich blue-purple of his spark light took over, playing across Wing's face and their white plating.

The smaller white mech went still for a long moment, just gazing at that blue-purple glow. Its light tinted his white armor, making his red trim look black. After a klik, he lifted a hand, gliding his fingertips lightly over the circuitry surrounding that bright spark. "Beautiful," he murmured.

Tradewinds vents hitched at that touch, the pleasure singing through his field while he struggled to regain control of his seized vocalizer.

Wing smiled down at him, leaning over to blow lightly over the exposed circuitry. Playful golden optics lifted to take in Tradewinds' reaction as lovely blue optics flickered. The shuttle trembled with a deep, resonant moan of exquisite pleasure.

"Yes, more..." Tradewinds barely kept himself from keening.

"As you wish," Wing purred, fluttering his wings. Light fingertips skimmed over the supporting systems, moving upward to brush feather-light over the spark chamber itself.

Tradewinds chest arched up, pressing the large faceted spherical crystal into Wing's fingers as the shuttle keened, his optics turning off in his ecstasy. Around Wing Tradewinds' field exploded with sensations that the young jet couldn't put designation to, other than _good_.

Wing watched with bright interest, stroking his fingers over the crystalline surface again. His fingertips traced the seams of the casing, along the lines where the casing opened as a spiral. He felt Tradewinds' vents gasp and stutter with each touch. The shuttle's field flared as he keened, lost in the sensations vibrated directly into his very life force.

Very gently Wing curled his fingers around his lover's spark casing, watching as threads of blue-purple energy flicked out to follow his fingers. He rubbed his palm against the crystal, feeling the faint prickle of energy even through the casing.

Tradewinds gasped and trembled, his entire frame locked in the intense pleasure of having his spark directly stimulated. Fingers curled randomly as energy caused him to spasm. "Wiiiinggg..."

The stunt jet's response was a purr that sent vibrations all through his frame. Including down his arm and hand, directly into Tradewinds' spark chamber. Wing's other hand lifted, brushing lightly over a particularly sensitive sensor relay node buried deep under the spark chamber.

Tradewinds screamed, his back arching to press hard into those hands as the overload turned his optics white and made his spark pulse _hard_ to reach out and grab Wing's field, the closest thing to the jet's spark as it could reach.

Wing shifted slightly, keeping his balance as the larger shuttle's frame bucked under him. His golden optics were wide and bright, armor fluffed and fans whirring loudly. That had been quite a show. He watched as his lover sank off line as the overload loosened its grip on his frame, then automatic protocols began to close Tradewinds chest plates.

The white jet withdrew his hand after one last, lingering caress of the spark crystal. Purring softly, he waited for his lover's armor to close completely, then slid off, curling into Tradewinds' side and resting his helm on the shuttle's chest. Letting out a soft, contented hum, Wing followed Tradewinds into recharge.


	20. When a Sparkling is Too Large

To those who saw funky formatting last chapter: it's been fixed. Sorry about that.  
And this is the last of my backlog, so chapters will come more slowly again.

Fandom: Transformers G1  
Author: gatekat, ultrarodimus on LJ  
Pairing: Axe/Dai Atlas/Titanus, Wing/Tradewinds  
Rating: PG-13  
Codes: Slash, Historical Setting, Knights of Light, Mechpreg, Death  
Disclaimer: The authors are only playing with their own twisted muses. Transformers belong to Hasbro. Fandom-side, check the inspirations page (gatekat-fics .livejournal 290 .html). We draw from a ton of amazing stories and authors you should read.

**Kneeling to the Sword 20: When a Sparkling is Too Large**  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ =================== ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Several metacycles had passed since Dai Atlas and Titanus had been confirmed to be carrying. The big teleporter had moved into the Citadel a metacycle before, well before the growing protoform he carried grounded him. Many mecha outside the Citadel had not been pleased, since the giant flier was in very high demand as a courier. Fortunately for the sanity of the Citadel's residents, Titanus had proven much more laid back and mellow a carrier than Dai Atlas was ... which made sense, given how much more laid back he was in general.

Both mecha had been doing well, though Dai Atlas' temper, as expected, was steadily getting worse as he began to show his condition and it took a noticeable physical toll on his abilities. Hardwing had been keeping close tabs on both of them. There had been no signs of any problems. Now the newsparks were mere decaorns from migrating downward from their carriers' spark chambers into the developing protoforms.

Titanus was watching Dai Atlas spar with Shogun; Axe and Stormcloud watching with him. It was a fascinating show with well-matched opponents since Dai Atlas had been slowed down by his state.

The white and deep gray mech leaned against the wall, one folded wing twitching slightly. His arms were crossed over his chest, Wing sprawled across them. The small jet had been taking every opportunity to climb all over Titanus' frame, touching his abdomen where the protoform was being constructed, even though nothing was showing yet. It was something he couldn't do with Dai Atlas unless he wanted to chance getting swatted, but Titanus was perfectly calm about it.

"His temper's worse than before," Axe said quietly, shifting as he watched the match. "I hope that means the sparkling is a strong one to be draining on him that much."

The bigger mech hummed softly. "If his temper reflects the strength of the sparkling, then it will be quite strong. And probably a handful to raise." He shifted slightly, careful not to disturb the jet draped across his folded arms.

"True enough," Axe chuckled. "Sheerwing definitely was, especially for Wing. Having a sparkling capable of breaking his brother's wing off before he's old enough to realize it's not a toy was challenging. We managed, though, and hopefully Dio Onshar's temperament will remain closer to yours than his carrier's despite his designation."

"We'll just have to wait and see," Titanus replied. "Starspark is probably going to be just as much of a handful. I can already sense the mischief. Primus help us when she's old enough to join Wing, Sheer, and Firefly in their shenanigans."

"As long as it's not mean mischief," Axe's optics glittered as he grinned at Titanus before every shred of humor vanished from him in a flash that saw the black and gold Knight over the railing of the observation area and onto the arena floor with a snarl as he charged for his mate even before the giant began to crumble.

Wing jumped at Axe's sudden movement, clamping onto Titanus' armor as the big teleporter followed. Wide golden optics fixed on the scene, watching as Axe and Shogun caught Dai Atlas, keeping him from hitting the floor.

"What's wrong?" Titanus hurried over, armor ruffling and standing on end across his upper back.

"His spark..." Axe had to fight for every intake he got as the pain flowed through the bond. "Medbay."

Titanus shifted Wing to his shoulder, the small white jet clinging to his armor. Processors already starting to run complex calculations, Titanus grabbed hold of the entire group. "This might feel weird, but it's the quickest way to the medbay." Blue optics flared as he teleported, the whole group reappearing in the middle of the medical bay.

Hardwing and Redline paused in their scramble to grab portable equipment at their sudden appearance. "Berth, both of them!" Redline barked, comming Dagger to get his aft into the main room.

"What happened?" Hardline demanded.

"Dai and I were sparring, and then he just collapsed." Shogun looked completely baffled. "Axe managed to mention his spark before Titanus teleported us all up here."

Wing clung to Titanus, resisting the temptation to cling to his creators. Under him white and gray armor shivered as Titanus helped the older pair onto the berths, then got out of the way so the medics could do their thing. The retreat was also fuelled by easing the distress on his spark being so close to so much pain caused.

"I was afraid of this," Hardwing said grimly, hooking Dai Atlas up to several monitors and support equipment while Dagger did his best to soothe Axe. "Titanus, do you have a strong connection to Dio Onshar?"

The big teleporter nodded. "Yes, I have a strong bond with him. Why?" Titanus shifted his weight from pede to pede nervously. "What's going on?"

"Don't go far," Redline said firmly as Dai Atlas went under stasis. "This is likely to _hurt_."

Axe tried to get up, only to be pushed down by Redline. "Stay," the medic growled.

"He's losing the newspark," Dagger elaborated for those who hadn't been in the loop.

Titanus' optics went wide. "He's... what?" The big mech felt his way to another berth and sat on it without taking his shocked gaze from the medics who were scrambling to hook Dai Atlas up to an array of machines. Wing scrambled off his shoulders, torn between staying with Titanus or going to Axe. "Why? What's happened to Dio Onshar?"

"He's too large for Dai Atlas to support," Hardwing grunted as he plugged into Dai Atlas to try and force the newspark to migrate to its protoform early.

"He'd likely be a small city-former," Redline picked up for his mentor as Hardline tuned out the outside world in a last ditch attempt to save both lives. "If we can't get him to migrate early, he'll have to be terminated to save his carrier."

Two pairs of optics, one sapphire blue and one sun-gold, just stared at the medic for a long, stunned moment. Titanus' hands tightened on the edge of the berth, almost denting the metal. Starspark responded to his distress, reaching out to him and trying to reach her sire, knowing something was wrong but not what.

"Primus willing, save them both," the teleporter murmured, armor alternately flattening against his frame and flaring out in distress.

"Focus on Dai Atlas," Shogun insisted as he walked up to take control of Axe, though he wasn't resisting at the moment. "I've got him if something goes badly."

Dagger nodded and turned to monitor duty while Redline sent the medical overrides to open Dai Atlas chest. Rich red light flooded out, eclipsed every seventeen nanokliks by a golden red as the newspark passed in front of his.

Though the entire family knew the newspark was large, something Dai Atlas was pleased by, this was the first time any of them really grasped that Dio Onshar's spark, even at this stage, was larger than his carrier's.

"What's going on?" Sheerwing demanded as he came in for a near-crash landing from the open balcony window, drawn by his carrier's pain.

Several pairs of optics widened as they took in the size difference between the two sparks. Titanus' folded wings flared out to their full span, almost hitting Wing. The white jet leaped out of the way, landing on his younger brother. "Dio's spark is too big for Dai to support... If he won't or can't migrate early, Hardwing will have to terminate him to save our creator," Wing told the younger mech, his field merging with Sheerwing's, communicating his distress.

A sharp intake greeted the news, then Sheerwing's attention snapped to Titanus.

"Likely fine, unless he can't take the shock of the creator bond breaking with Dio Onshar," Dagger answered.

On the second berth Axe whined and shuddered, responding to his mate's pain and distress as he struggled to fight Hardline's commands to force the newspark to migrate early. Carrier protocols were viciously strong in Dai Atlas, back by a personality and history that taught him to fight with everything he had.

A shudder ran through the teleporter's frame. "I've never experienced a broken bond before; I have no way of knowing if I'll be able to handle it or not. But I also have Star to think about. Losing both sparklings, rather than just one, would break all of us, I think." Titanus' sapphire optics were riveted on Dai Atlas and the newspark orbiting the blue mech's own.

Wing keened very softly, all but flattening himself against the side of Sheerwing's neck as his younger but much larger brother held him, offering support as much as needing it.

"She's not too large, is she?" Sheerwing blurted out.

"She's small," Dagger spoke up so the more experienced medics didn't have to pay attention. "As long as Titanus' spark does not falter seriously, he's more than strong enough to support her."

"Most of the energy went to Dai, for Dio Onshar," Titanus added, finally looking up. "Star will be a small femme, probably not much bigger than Wing." Blue optics turned back to Dai Atlas, white and gray armor flattening down so tightly it creaked in response.

The golden-red spark flickered, its next orbit lower and not completely eclipsing his carrier's.

"That's good," Dagger told them. "Dio Onshar is trying to migrate. Dai Atlas is much more likely to survive now."

"If Primus is willing, both will survive." Titanus' hands tightened on the edge of the berth, leaving deep finger imprints in the metal.

"I hope so," Wing murmured. Shogun hummed his agreement from where he was kneading Axe's shoulders and neck, trying to help keep the black mech calm and grounded despite the intense pain and distress pouring into him from his bond.

The room fell largely silent except for the stuttering and hitching of Axe's vents, and occasionally Titanus'. They all watched as Dio Onshar's giant spark gradually disappeared from sight. Then focus turned to Axe as the best indication of what was going on inside his mate. When the black triple changer screamed, his optics going blindingly white as he thrashed in the grip of pain too strong for even him to control everyone held their collective breath.

Plating rattled as another, stronger shudder ran through Titanus' frame. One palm pressed against the teleporter's own chestplate, over where his daughter's spark was pulsing frantically, wanting to know what was going on. Wing shivered hard at Axe's scream, all but melting into Sheerwing's armor, he was pressed so close. Shogun wrapped his arms around Axe, holding him firmly, hoping to keep the older mech from hurting himself or anyone else until the thrashing stopped.

Dai Atlas' chest armor closed, but no one really noticed that, or the arrival of Vanguard, Aurora and Marwir, who remained well out of the way but ready to keep anyone who needed to be controlled from hurting themselves.

Even in deep stasis Dai Atlas entire frame twitched, a sign of just how intense the pain was. His spark was fighting to hold on to its frame and the sparkling that still desperately needed his support.

A volatile series of curses escaped Redline as comprehension hit him just a few nanokliks after Hardwing realized what was going on. It took a moment longer for Dagger to catch up, having to go by the monitors.

"We're going to lose Dio Onshar," the youngest medic warned them. "He's not nearly as close to natural migration as we thought. His spark is not mature enough to support itself."

Wing's keen was echoed by Titanus' deeper voice, the teleporter all but curling up on himself on the berth. Shogun's hold tightened on Axe, trying to keep the black mech firmly pinned. The former policemech had seen all too many sparklings deactivated and knew how hard it was on the creators. This was more like a trine of Seekers, since even though Axe had no bond with the newspark, he had a very strong one with the carrier.

Vanguard stepped close to Sheerwing, supportive but also ready to keep the young Knight where he was should the bond with his carrier or simple emotional fallout cause something to snap inside him. It kept him close to Wing as well, though Marwir was trying to coax the white jet off his current perch and into her arms. It left Aurora to keep a sharp optic on Titanus as the sire-bond began to unravel.

It took a lot of coaxing to get Wing to come down from his brother's shoulder, his armor and wings tight to his frame, field roiling with distress. The white jet shivered all over, keening, optics darting from mech to mech as Marwir held him tightly, her field wrapping around him in support and comfort. The tremors running through Titanus' frame grew stronger and stronger, though otherwise he didn't move as the tight bond frayed and came apart. Sapphire optics flickered unsteadily, his keen rising in pitch and intensity. Aurora offered an embrace, offered her support, though she did not force it on him.

With a whisper Marwir edged Wing over to Axe, who'd settled somewhat, though his ventilations were still harsh and his optics unseeing as he fought to keep his mate in his frame and force Dai Atlas to let the sparkling go. Wing went more willingly to his creator, pressing against black armor. Shogun shifted an arm out of the way, giving the little white jet more room while still keeping a firm hold on Axe.

Titanus didn't seem to notice Aurora's presence at all. His attention was turned inward, on holding himself and Starspark together against the tide of pain coming through the fading creator bond as his spark thrashed in rejection of its loss.

Time stood still for everyone, all echoing the pain centered on Dai Atlas' spark as it thrashed and fought to sustain a life that would ultimately cost its own to maintain.

~Let him go!~ Axe howled across the bond, desperate to keep his love alive. ~Please!~

~But our sparkling...~

~Will still extinguish anyway if you do,~ he tried to use reason. ~Love, let him go.~

Dai Atlas' spark cried out in denial, knowing what the medics would not discover for more than a vorn; that this was its last chance. There would not be another.

Through the creator bond Dai Atlas shared with Starspark, the tiny femme sent fear, distress, and confusion. She didn't know what was going on, only that her sire and carrier were distressed and in pain. Titanus was keening, as curled into a ball as he could manage, his optics fixed on Dai Atlas.

In the end none of that mattered to Dai Atlas. It was his own spark-level coding demanding he survive. With a silent keen he let go of the life he'd nurtured at the cost of his own health and felt it fade even as it fought for its life. All he could do was gently hum to Dio Onshar and try to assure him that once the pain was over things got better.

Titanus' keen rose to a near-shriek as he felt the bond break, making nearby mecha wince. His whole frame spasmed several times, then he slumped back against the wall, optics dim, misery in every line of him.

Wing keened, pressing against black armor and burying his face against Axe's plating. White plating was flattened against his frame, field roiling with distress. His adoptive creator was no help; Axe was hurting just as much, if not more. Only Shogun had enough detachment from the situation to try and offer comfort to the pair.

Yet the grief was not the focus of the three medics. Those mecha would continue to function and they all knew it. The only spark at real risk was Dai Atlas. He was fighting for his functioning as the second strongest spark bond known to mecha snapped, sending spark energy out of equilibrium.

Wing slowly peeled himself away from Axe, moving over to latch onto blue armor, keeping out of Hardwing's way. The white jet's hands tightened around Dai Atlas' arm, field flickering against the larger mech's. Starspark tried to reach out again, but she was already exhausted, sinking back into silence, though distress still trickled through the creator bonds.

Axe's optics dimmed, all his attention on the bond he shared with Dai Atlas, trying to hold his mate as Dai Atlas fought for his life. Though Axe hadn't been there for the previous two times Dai Atlas had faced such a backlash to his spark, he had experienced it once himself. They both knew through hard experience that as painful as this was, it would pass and there could be a good functioning after it.

In the moment, though, it was difficult to remember that.

~Not going anywhere,~ Dai Atlas promised weakly.

~Good,~ Axe replied, slumping back against Shogun in relief. ~I don't want to lose you, and neither does anyone else.~ Blue optics warmed up, taking in his mate's frame and the small white mech wrapped around one arm, then lifting to the larger white and gray mech on the other berth.

"They'll both be fine," Shogun assured him. "It's traumatic and stressful, but Titanus is showing no signs of her spark failing."

Axe went almost limp with relief, leaning back against the red mech's frame. "Losing one was traumatic enough. I don't even want to think of losing both."

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It had been several metacycles since Dai Atlas' miscarriage and the loss of his sparkling. Titanus had moved into his own quarters in the Citadel full time, spending some time with Axe and Wing during the day but keeping to himself at night. He showed very little sign of his carrying, the developing protoform being so small that his own bulk very effectively concealed any sign of it. Hardwing had been monitoring him even more closely than before since the loss of Dio Onshar, not wanting anything to go wrong.

Wing had been with the big teleporter when the first separation warning had appeared on Titanus' HUD, and it was the little white jet who passed the news on to the rest of his family while Titanus made his way to the medical bay. Axe appeared shortly after the bigger mech settled onto the berth, bringing with him one of the sparkling blankets that Titanium had sent for Sheerwing so many centuries before.

Dai Atlas was right behind his mate, though still somewhat distant. The bindings and time had eased the intellectual and some of the emotional pain of his loss, but there was no getting around the fact that he still wasn't himself yet. On a very important level he still was not connecting with the world around him quiet correctly yet. Hardwing assured those who asked that it was normal, that as long as he wasn't pulling away from his mate that it would settle in time. It still distressed many in the Citadel to watch the ancient in such a state of only being half alive. It brought back too many memories of the battle and his final trial.

"How big will she be?" Dai Atlas finally asked, taking in the fact that even at this stage Titanus didn't seem to be showing at all.

"In her full adult frame, she will likely be no bigger than Wing is," Titanus answered, his wings twitching rapidly as he reacted to the impatient squirming inside his abdomen. "Very small." His armor began shifting out of the way, the sounds of movement from underneath becoming more audible.

Wing was right up on the edge of the berth, having parked himself next to the giant flier's shoulder. Bright gold optics watched as white and charcoal armor parted.

"She'll be one of the easiest separations in history," Hardwing grunted. "As long as she doesn't crawl the wrong direction. She's smaller than Demeter right now."

Deep red optics cycled as Dai Atlas took in the information and realized that if the energy had been split correctly, both sparklings would be the size of their creators rather than one trying to form into a city-former too large to support and the other small enough for a normal mech to carry.

A rustling sound emerged from under parting armor, an imperious chirp following a moment later. Tiny optics had caught the glimmer of light through the mass of her carrier's internal systems, and she was going right for it. Titanus made an odd sound low in his throat as circuitry and wiring were shoved out of the way. "Primus, that feels so weird..."

For the first time in metacycles Dai Atlas perked up at the tug on his spark and crept forward to peer down, into the small opening in Titanus' armor and the two tiny pricks of purple light, somewhere between Titanus' blue and Dai Atlas' red in color, staring back at him. The sparkling went still for a moment, staring, then began wriggling her way toward the opening again. While Titanus did his very best to hold perfectly still, except for his twitching wings, Starspark pushed and squirmed her way through the mass of her carrier's systems. It wasn't long before a tiny hand emerged, scrabbling at Titanus' armor, seeking a hold with which to pull herself free.

"So small," Dai Atlas murmured in amazement as the hand was followed by a second, then the top of a protoform helm.

"Wing, that's the size your sparkling should be," Dagger grinned at his Daoshi.

"She's perfectly formed," Hardwing assured everyone.

Starspark chittered to herself as she got a firm hold, bracing one tiny pede against Titanus' protoform and pushing herself out. Tiny wing nubs, folded down against her back the same way Dai Atlas' did, flopped open as the femme sprawled out on white and deep gray armor, taking a moment to rest before lifting her helm to look around.

"Very small," Titanus agreed. "But beautiful."

Wing chirred, creeping closer. "Might be a while before we find out," he replied, grinning back at Dagger.

The tiny femme's helm showed the beginnings of a chevron similar to Axe's, while the sides sported what looked like the beginnings of stylized avian wings. Her protoform greatly resembled her carrier's, though her facial features were a softer-edged mirror of Dai Atlas'. She even had the same dark markings under her optics, curving down her cheeks. Starspark turned, looking right up at her sire.

He looked back with the awe that everyone, even he, feared he could not muster. Yet it came honestly as he looked at this tiny being he had helped create with his mate and their lover. Cautiously he extended a finger that likely weighed more than she did to stroke along her back.

A contented chirr answered the touch as Starspark leaned into the touch. "That feels good..." She had a soft, warm voice and highly resonant; the tonal range one that none in the family had but all recognized. The voice of a great singer or orator in the making.

"She's beautiful," Axe murmured, his optics glowing warmly, his shoulder just brushing his mate's. Relief and joy at his mate's response to the tiny femme was thick in his field.

"And vocal," Dai Atlas chuckled, thinking back to other youths he'd known.

Starspark blinked at the big black and gold mech. "Is that for me?" She pointed at the soft blanket in the big black mech's hands.

"Yes," he smiled, glancing at Hardline for permission. The medic nodded with a smile, encouraging Axe to strengthen his bond with the sparkling.

Titanus gently nudged Wing with the crest of his helm. "Could you grab that small energon cube, please?"

"Sure." Wing retrieved the object, knowing that Starspark would need it before too long. Settling back onto the berth, he moved closer, trilling a greeting to the tiny sparkling.

Starspark trilled back, watching the white jet curiously before reaching out to tug the blanket from Axe's hands. "Ooh, it's soft." She smiled brightly up at the black mech, reaching up to grasp Dai Atlas' finger.

"Vocal and tactile," Dai Atlas chuckled, red optics looking teasingly at Titanus. "Are you sure she's not Wing's too?"

"Quite sure," the teleporter replied with a chuckle. He ran a hand lightly over Starspark's helm, getting a purr from the sparkling.

Bright purple optics spotted the energon in Wing's hand, her hand releasing the blanket to reach for it. The white jet held the cube for her while she drank, her other hand still gripping her sire's finger. She let go of the cube when it was half finished but never let go of Dai Atlas' finger as she began to drift off.

"Recharge, little one," Dai Atlas hummed to her. "You are safe here."

A soft chirr escaped Starspark's vocalizer as she settled down, curling into the soft blanket, clinging to Dai Atlas' finger like a plush toy. Wing cooed softly at the adorableness of the sight, while Axe took several image captures to add to his files. Titanus gave Starspark a klik to settle into recharge before gently prying her tiny hands away from Dai Atlas' hand.

"She likes you," the teleporter commented, carefully wrapping the blanket around the tiny protoform, shifting her up onto his chest, directly over his spark. One fingertip lightly traced the developing chevron.

"That's good," Dai Atlas murmured, leaning against Axe as he watched Starspark recharge. "Will she be raised in the Citadel?"

"My carrier died in an accident centuries ago, and my sire hasn't been the same since. Something in him snapped when his bonded deactivated. I haven't been in touch with him for a long time, and I have no other living family. So the Citadel is the safest place for her to grow up." Titanus nodded, meeting the older mech's optics.

"Few mecha recover from a broken bond," Dai Atlas murmured, entirely too familiar with the truth of it. "There is good reason it is a common myth that losing your bonded is a death sentence." He reached out to stroke Starspark's helm with an impossibly light touch. "She will always be welcome in our home," he met and held his lover's blue optics. "At least one of us will _always_ be able to look after her."

The recharging sparkling purred softly at the touch, nestling deeper into the blanket and settling down again. Her hand snuck out to paw lightly at the large finger stroking her helm.

"You're probably going to be watching her quite a bit, especially once I start couriering again," the teleporter replied with a smile, grateful that his sparkling's sire wanted her in his life after the loss of her brother. "I have to go a lot of places where a sparkling would not be safe, and I don't want to leave her alone."

"You'll never need to," Dai Atlas promised, earning a chirr of agreement from Wing and nod from Axe. "Between the four of us and those we trust implicitly, if someone is not off duty one of us can trade a shift easily."

"Yeah, caring for a sparkling is something that we value strongly," Wing agreed. "We'll all have a lot of leeway when it comes to needing to care for her."

"All right, everyone shoo," Hardwing waved the gathering off. "Once I check them both over he's free to return to his apartment."

"And I'm sure the entire Citadel is waiting for news," Titanus added. He reached over to stroke Wing's helm briefly. Axe caught his hand, squeezing it gently. "I'll see you later, when Hardwing lets us out."


	21. Growing up and Promotions

Fandom: Transformers G1  
Author: gatekat, ultrarodimus on LJ  
Pairing: Axe/Dai Atlas/Titanus, Wing/Tradewinds, Starspark/Sirenis  
Rating: PG-13  
Codes: Slash, Historical Setting, Knights of Light, Violence  
Summary:  
Disclaimer: The authors are only playing with their own twisted muses. Transformers belong to Hasbro. Fandom-side, check the inspirations page (gatekat-fics .livejournal 290 .html). We draw from a ton of amazing stories and authors you should read.  
The cyber-kitten: (gorechick .deviantart art/Kitty-Jazz-90551785)

**Kneeling to the Sword 21: Growing up and Promotions**  
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Starspark was giggling loudly, her attention firmly held by her current watcher, Dart. The small cycleformer had been picked to watch her because of his ability to keep her out of mischief at least part of the time, though sometimes he was more inclined to help her in whatever mischief she was into. When Wing and Firefly joined in, the Citadel shivered at what the four might get up to.

A flash of blue caught the attention of both, the little femme squealing happily as she recognized her carrier appearing out of thin air. The big teleporter had resumed his job as a courier about two vorns after Starspark had separated. He worked shorter orns than he had before, spending as much time as he could with his creation while still earning a good income.

This orn, Titanus was clearly carrying something in his arms, though the smaller mecha couldn't tell what. It was smaller than her, metallic in parts while fluffy black or white elsewhere. Bright points of blue appeared over Titanus' arm when it squirmed.

Starspark caught Dart's comprehension of what they were looking at and got even more excited. "What did carrier bring?" she demanded with a squeal.

The teleporter knelt down, showing her a small mechanimal. "Cybercat kitten. Cute, isn't he?"

"Yes cute!" she squealed again and rushed forward with bright optics.

"Where did you get that?" Dart asked curiously.

"I was picking up a shipment from a warehouse, and the shipment mewed at me. No one claimed the kitten, and it was quite a friendly little critter. So I decided to bring it home with me." Titanus set the small creature down on the floor in front of Starspark. "Be careful not to hurt it, Star."

She nearly froze at the caution and nodded seriously. She knelt to all fours to get closer to the ball of black and white metal fluff. Its helm and left shoulder were black, most of the body and face were white but all four pedes and the end of its long, slender tail were black. Bright blue optics watched her curiously as huge black ears flicked at her.

"What is its designation?" she asked as she approached the creature curiously.

"It doesn't have a designation yet," her carrier replied, settling down on the floor. "You can pick it up and pet it, but no pulling of ears or tail, and no squeezing."

"I think you made her orn." Dart grinned up at the much bigger mech.

"I understand carrier," she promised and crawled a bit closer to reach out for the kitten. "Soft!" she squealed again in surprise when she ran her hand down its back. "Good noise?" she asked nervously when the creature began to purr.

"Very good noise," Titanus agreed. "Just like your brother Wing when his wings are petted. It likes being petted."

"Cool," she grinned and petted the kitten again as she worked out how to read its field.

::Dart, what is going on?:: Dai Atlas commed.

::Tai brought a cybercat kitten back. It's the most adorable thing,:: Dart tried not to coo over the comm. ::Her first pet.::

::Kitten?:: Wing's voice broke in with a trilling squeal of excitement.

::Incoming Wing,:: Axe laughed hard over what had become a family comm line. ::You know he's wanted a pet since he met Lunar and Solar.::

Titanus shook his helm, amused. ::No pulling ears or tails, Wing. Unless you want claw marks in your finish.:: He brought out a few cybercat toys he'd picked up before returning to the Citadel, having made a quick stop at a store in Iacon.

::And broken audials,:: Axe added with a snicker. ::Get captures.::

Oblivious to the chatter, Starspark had to picked up the purring ball of fluff and cradled it against her chest.

Titanus' smiled, watching the small femme cuddling the kitten. The kitten was clearly enjoying the attention, rubbing its head against her chin and purring loudly. ::I'll take plenty of pictures, Axe,:: he replied, hearing the sound of Wing's engines approaching.

"Cute little purr-ball," Starspark cooed as she locked her joints so she didn't squeeze her new pet. "So soft."

"He didn't have a home or anyone to feed him, so I brought him home with me. And it looks like he really likes you." Titanus' optics glowed softly as he watched the kitten rub its head against her chin and neck.

Wing trotted in, wings twitching. Bright gold optics settled on the ball of fur in his sister's arms. "Aw, that is cute."

"Isn't it?" Starspark grinned up at him, her purple optics glowing brightly before she lowered her face to nuzzle the kitten. "What should we call it?"

The kitten mewed, optics dimming as it rubbed its cheek against hers, little wire whiskers rasping softly against her cheekplate. Soft fur tickled her cheek.

"That's entirely up to you," Wing replied, reaching out to rub behind a large black ear. "It's your kitten, not our kitten."

Purple optics blinked, glancing at her carrier.

Titanus nodded. "He's all yours, sweetspark." He gently ran a fingertip over the little wing on the side of her helm.

"I think I'll call him White Stripe," she decided, nuzzling the little creature, both of the youths purring now.

A small paw lifted to gently pat at Starspark's nose, White Stripe sniffing at her cheek and helmet. Fur brushed against armor as the kitten shifted in her arms.

"That's a nice designation." Wing scratched under the kitten's chin, his smile widening as blue optics dimmed almost off, White Stripe leaning into his hand.

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Sirenis laughed, his field playful as Starspark fussed over his finish. They were in his apartment in Cyber City, preparing to visit her home, a place he still only knew as 'her home'. As a teleporter she was able to keep that secret better than most, much to the frustration of the entertainment press and her legions of fans.

"Are you sure you aren't planning to introduce me as your lover?" he continued to grin while she made sure his silver, black and blue finish was flawless.

"Wasn't planning on it," she teased back, giving him one last critical once-over. "Never hurts to look good, though." She ran critical purple optics over his frame, picking up a rag to buff out a spot only she could see before nodding in satisfaction.

"They _do_ know I'm coming?" he smiled and stepped close so she could grip him for the jump.

"They do," she confirmed, wrapping her arms around him. The femme grinned at him, her purple optics flaring as she teleported. A brilliant flash of blue-purple light blocked out the world, then there was an instant of nothingness before a second flash of light. Then they were somewhere else entirely.

Despite having done it a handful of times before, he still found it disorienting. As his optic feed settled he took in the central room of an apartment designed for absolute giants, then he found those giants. Five of them.

Five? Creators, two brothers, and ?

"Titan! You're back!" The femme detached from Sirenis, trotting over to hug the big purple and silver mech, the oldest of the gathering.

"I'm back," the giant agreed, returning the hug. "It's good to see you again."

"It is." Starspark held onto him for a long moment before letting go and turning back to her fellow professional singer and sometimes lover. "Sirenis, this is my family. My carrier, Titanus, my sire, Dai Atlas, my creator, Axe, my uncle Titanium, and my brothers Sheerwing and Wing." She pointed to each in turn, pointing out one Sirenis hadn't noticed, a relatively small white mech on Dai Atlas' shoulder. The only one besides Starspark in the family to be normal sized.

"Hello all," Sirenis smiled at the group that made him feel _very_ small. "You didn't tell me Dai and Axe were your creators," he focused on her.

Starspark tilted her helm. "I wasn't aware you knew them." She looked up at the pair curiously.

"Do we?" Dai Atlas stood to approach the singer, trying to place the face or voice.

"Yap," Sirenis chirped with a grin that seemed just a touch out of place.

"Chipper?" Dai Atlas paused, his wings flicking in surprise.

"Yap," Sirenis grinned up at him. "It's not common knowledge though."

"It's been a long time," Axe added, grinning at the small mech. "How have you been doing?"

"Chipper?" Starspark echoed, looking at Sirenis. "That certainly suits you."

"Thanks, and quite well," Sirenis relaxed and hopped up onto the back of a couch. "We crossed paths when we were exploring Cybertron," he explained to Starspark. "I still own them my spark, and a _lot_ of credits."

"The credits we're not worried about, particularly," Axe put in, getting up to retrieve two smaller cubes, one jet-grade and one grounder-grade.

"I can pay it back now, though," Sirenis insisted. "As you might know from Starspark, a top ranked performer earns a very good income. I just never knew where to find you. Not even _Prowl_ could find you."

"Which was the point," Axe replied as he handed Sirenis the grounder-grade energon. "Not even Nova Prime could find us here. We were able to live in peace, completely off the grid, until well after his death."

"I've heard quite a bit about you," Titanus commented, shifting a wing. "It's nice to finally get a chance to meet you."

"As Chipper or Sirenis?" he asked curiously.

"As Sirenis," Titanus answered. "You're in the entertainment news a lot, and I have heard quite a few of your songs while out and about, working."

Something soft brushed against Sirenis' leg, revealing the presence of a large black and white cybercat joining him on the back of the couch. Wire whiskers twitched as the creature sniffed at him, tail waving lazily back and forth, then rubbed against his leg plating.

"And you must be White Streak," Sirenis trilled to the mecha-animal before reaching out to pet him. "Any you'd like to hear live tonight?"

"He is indeed," Starspark confirmed, watching as the cybercat leaned into the petting, purring loudly. "Best mouser in the place."

"I'd like to hear any new ones," the biggest of the group replied. "Some of the ones I've heard while out and about I've heard over and over."

"I've heard of you as Chipper," Titanium volunteered, sprawling over a chair. "You stayed in my apartment after Dai and Axe rescued you from the arenas in Kaon."

"Yap," the singer nodded with a grin.

"So how did things turn out with Prowl?" Dai Atlas asked.

"Very well," Sirenis brightened considerably. "Three hundred vorns after that fight we bonded."

"Glad to hear that." Axe grinned at him. "You were in quite a state when you found out he'd already bonded twice, as I recall. Glad to hear things worked out."

White Streak stood up on his hind pedes, sniffing at Sirenis' face. One paw reached up to pat at his nose before the cybercat trotted over to where Dai Atlas sat, climbing up a blue leg onto his lap.

"More pede prints in your finish," Titanus teased, looking over at the blue Knight.

"As if anyone's surprised at this point," he chuckled. "Did you want to meet Prowl's creations while you are here? We trained at least two of them."

"Dagger and Lightwing," Sirenis nodded, a fond smile creeping across his features. "I would love to. It's been a long time since I got to see my creation."

Starspark cycled her optics. "Wait, you're Lord Jazz?"

"Yes," he nodded, his expression much more serious. "That _is_ a secret. Prowl supports my love of this function, but it wouldn't be accepted by much of the nobility. If it became known, Sirenis would have to disappear."

"We'll keep it in the family," Dai Atlas promised with all the authority of a family patriarch.

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Dai Atlas walked in silence to the Sovereign's office without a clue as to why he was summoned, and summoned by himself. As far as he knew he'd done nothing to warrant the leader's official attention. His third Initiate had returned to the Citadel without incident more than forty vorns before and while he was looking again, it was too soon for anyone to think he was lacking attention to his duties to the future. After all, Wing still hadn't taken on a third Initiate yet, and Axe hadn't found a fourth.

Even his temperament and reproductive protocols had been well in check, thank Primus and a spark too damaged to carry again.

When he stepped into the office that always reminded him of entering a Great Sword's gem he couldn't stop his wings from flicking in surprise. The Sovereign wasn't alone. There were three other Masters there: Aurora, Marwir and Tornado. All were focused on him and standing in a semi-circle in much the way of a judgment panel would.

"Master Dai Atlas, it has come to our attention that you are making a significant, if unguided effort to put yourself in line to be the next Sovereign." Vanguard spoke evenly after the door closed and locked behind the giant.

A quiver of tension was ruthlessly suppressed as the giant stood ramrod straight, every micrometer of him the military General he once was. "That is correct, Sovereign."

"Why?" Aurora, the next likely one to bear the title demanded coolly.

"Because I am the one best able to lead the Order through the civil war that is coming," he focused on her.

White optics narrowed. "There is more to becoming Sovereign than training Initiates. But you wouldn't have known that, since Wing has no interest in advancing any further, and he himself does not know."

Sharp red optics locked onto white and for a brief moment all for Masters were treated to a view of Dai Atlas that they'd not witnessed before: the General being challenged for his competency. "No more than being a top General in the army is about training recruits, Sovereign." His voice was hard, a pointed reminder that Dai Atlas was anything but new to a command position.

"What makes you think you are best for the position?" Tornado asked. "Why do you want the rank?"

Dai Atlas' optics locked on the yellow pair. "I am the only one here who was a command officer, who has seen _war_ from a position of leadership and won. There are lessons that only experience can teach and I've learned them all when it comes to leading during a conflict. I _will_ protect the Citadel and the Order when what's coming arrives at our gates."

Marwir rumbled but didn't directly contradict him.

"You are certain that a war is brewing?" Tornado's optics narrowed.

"Yes," Dai Atlas nodded. "It is waiting only on a leader to focus the storm."

Vanguard inclined his helm ever so slightly. "You do have a point. Several good points. But, are you capable of leading the Order in a time of peace, as well as a time of war?"

"That I would currently have to lean on others for more," the giant acknowledged. "I have done tours on Cybertron as a base sub-commander and several tours as a boot camp instructor."

The current Sovereign regarded the elder mech in silence for a long moment, weighing things in his processor. The next question seemed to come completely out of the blue. "Have you any experience crafting weapons, Dai Atlas?"

The giant paused. "Of the kind you mean, not in a very long time. They fell out of favor with Nova's ascension to Prime. Before that I learned to make all my own weapons, all soldiers did. I favored a mace and spiked shield to swords, however."

"At least you have the skills, even though they're rusty," Tornado noted. "I had to learn from scratch. Though the making of a Great Sword does require some specialized skills you will have to learn."

"If you can learn," Marwir huffed. "Not all who try can."

"If it means the Order survives well, I _will_ master it," Dai Atlas just barely kept his growl in check at the blatant challenge.

"There is far more to joining our rank than merely mastering skills," Aurora finally spoke up. "You will become an Initiate once more, to all of us. Do not expect to have a life for a couple millennia."

A flicker of long, wide blue and white wings, then Dai Atlas nodded. "I understand."

"It does not guarantee you will be the next Sovereign," Aurora reminded him firmly. "Only, _if_ you complete the training, you will be among those who can be considered for it when the current Sovereign steps down."

"I will complete it," he told her just as firmly. "I understand it is not a promise."

"Make certain that this is what you _want_, since the training will mean that you will not be seeing much of your family until you have completed it," Vanguard cautioned. "If you do successfully complete the training, and succeed in forging a Great Sword, then you will become a part of the Circle of Masters."

"It is what I want, Sovereign," Dai Atlas said with all the certainty of one who had spent centuries pondering the question.

Vanguard inclined his helm. "Then I wish you success."

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Wing landed on the balcony of the quarters Dai Atlas and Axe shared, peeking inside to make sure the black and gold mech was home before trotting inside. "Axe?"

"Hey Wing," Axe grinned over at him from where he was lounging on the couch watching an old vid. "Tradewinds cut you loose?" he teased.

"Yep." The little jet trotted over, climbing into Axe's lap and leaning against warm black plating. He was silent for a moment, then looked up into blue optics. "What's going on with Dai? He has no free time anymore; half the time I don't even see him until late in the evening if at all."

Axe smiled and stroked Wing's back before focusing on his wings. "He's training for the Circle of Masters, so he has a shot at being the next Sovereign. It's like being an Initiate all over again, only it'll last a couple millennia and he has to answer to all four of them."

The white mech blinked up at him. "The Circle of Masters? I've heard of that, though I've never really paid much attention. No reason to, since I have no interest in trying to become Sovereign."

"They're the Senior Masters who have finished all the additional training that a Sovereign needs. The next Sovereign is chosen from among them." Axe said softly as he petting his eldest creation's wings. "There's a _lot_ for him to learn, far more than we ever anticipated. If we have time, I'll be entering the training when he's completed it."

"I'm not surprised that there's a lot to learn." Wing purred at the petting. "The Sovereign is responsible for everyone inside the complex's walls, Knights and dependents. As much administration as anything else, from what I've seen. From watching Vanguard, I got the impression it's more like being a city leader than a military commander. But that would explain why Dai has no free time anymore."

"Yes, there is a lot of administration," Axe agreed. "It's so much more than that. The laws on who can come in, who can stay. The laws on punishment far beyond what a Knight needs to know. The full history of the Order, every Great Sword, the previous Sovereigns, secrets that he can't even tell me. How to forge the weapons of the order." He shook his helm. "I can't imagine how much more work it would be for someone who wasn't all but sparked to be a leader."

Slender wings fluttered under Axe's hands. "Definitely not something for me. My processor doesn't work that way. Besides, I can't see me in a position involving that much responsibility. Until I mature a little more. Which, knowing me, will probably take me until I'm as old as Dai is."

"Hopefully never," Axe chuckled softly. "Innocence at your age is a precious gift. You're mature enough to do your duty and even train an Initiate well. You're far more valuable to everyone as the mecha who smiles and teases. There are plenty of leaders."

Wing trilled. "I could probably stand to do a little more maturing." He rested his helm against Axe's chest, rubbing his cheek armor against the dark chestplate. "You're not the only one who thinks I'm just fine as I am, though."

"Tradewinds likes his little purring cuddle-bot, mmm?" the giant teased, though it was a real question. "Just how serious is it with him?"

"He is very serious about courting me, and I am very, very interested," Wing replied. "And yes, he likes me as I am."

"Any reservations?" Axe asked gently.

The jet shook his helm. "No, no reservations. He's really a very sweet mech."

Axe hummed. "Then I should be planning for a bonding ceremony the next time Titan is planetside." He ruffled Wing's wings, his field warm with excitement.

Wing turned up the volume on his purr. "I'm not sure if we're ready for that yet. But I will let you know. I'm well aware that if I don't, Dai will come to find out himself."

"He wants you, you don't find any fault with him ... why the uncertainty?" Axe prodded gently. "I can feel that you're the one who isn't ready."

"I'm not sure," Wing admitted. "I just... don't feel ready to bond just yet."

"Then don't," Axe said firmly. "If he's the right one, you'll know. Dai Atlas and I courted for a long time before he convinced me to bond."

The smaller mech hummed softly. "I admit I'm more than a bit jealous of what you have with Dai. I want something like that, some orn. But I'm not ready yet."

"It takes a _lot_ of work," he cautioned. "Not just to build the relationship, but to keep it. Communication, give and take, it's work every orn to keep it good."

"I will keep that firmly in mind." Wing nodded. Shifting position slightly, he rested his helm against Axe's chest, turned off his optics, and gave himself over to the petting.

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Axe made his way back to the quarters he shared with Dai Atlas, having just finished a sparring session with one of the other Master Knights, a big white mech by the designation Lightstrike. The white mech was a challenging opponent any orn. Entering his quarters, Axe was surprised to find them empty. Wing had made a habit of spending the evenings with him, which helped distract him from the fact that Dai Atlas was absent. He must be enjoying Tradewinds' attentions. Sheerwing was gone too, though that wasn't unusual. His middle creation preferred to spend time with his lover. His youngest was performing in Vos.

It was going to be a lonely evening until he was tired enough for recharge, or his mate finally finished and stumbled in.

The black and gold mech headed for the washracks, taking his time getting the sparring paint off his armor. Once the last fleck of yellow was gone, he stood under the spray for a good breem, just letting the solvent run over his plating. When he finally moved again, emerging from the shower, he dried himself, then made his way back out into the main room.

He grabbed a bookfile almost at random and flopped down on the smaller of the couches in the living room to read. He'd barely gotten through the first screen when there was a polite knock from the open balcony.

Axe looked up, turning toward the balcony. "Come in." His optic ridge quirked up when he saw Tradewinds' distinctive frame come into view.

"Do you have a few kliks to talk, Axe?" the shuttle asked politely.

"I'd expected you to be with Wing." Axe set the bookfile aside, sitting up on the couch. "Yes, I do have a few kliks." He waved the white shuttle toward a chair.

"Thank you," Tradewinds inclined his helm and sat where indicated. "I was wondering if Wing talks to you any, about me."

"He does talk to me, and to Dai," Axe confirmed. He snorted softly. "If he doesn't, Dai would go looking for answers. Wing confides in us, as well."

The white shuttle nodded, his wings relaxing somewhat. "Would you tell me if I have not done something for him?"

Axe cycled his optics. "I'm not aware of anything you haven't done for him. He is very much taken with you."

White wings flicked in confusion, but Tradewinds nodded, an almost defeated look crossing his features briefly. "I ... see. It seems I have much to learn of how to read him," he murmured. Soft, hurting blue optics briefly flicked up to meet Axe's. "I would ask if I have done anything wrong, but he is not good at hiding that." He smiled slightly. "He's such a sweet spark. He really does _like_ me?"

Axe blinked at Tradewinds' reaction. "He does. He truly likes you, very much. When he talks about you he gets a look that is very close to 'smitten'. Why do you ask?"

"I don't get to see that look," he said softly. "He seems to look at me the same way he looks at Thorn, Atl and his other regular lovers. I never expected him to be just mine; he's not that kind of mecha and I knew that before I started courting him. I did hope I might be a bit more than just another warm berth for him."

"You mean a great deal to him," Axe told him. "I've heard his other lovers playfully complaining about how much time he spends with you. Wing does love you, very much."

A small, relieved smile crossed Tradewinds' features as he stood. "Thank you. I will learn to be content with what this is, then."

"You are welcome." Axe nodded to him, watching as the shuttle left before returning to his reading with new things to turn over in his processors.

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Dai Atlas sank to his knees before the crystal forge, beyond exhausted. Drained to the point he was shaking, his control over his frame limited to the primary servos and muscle cables. He'd fought in battle for ten orns without a break and hadn't been this drained.

Yet at the same time he was elated. Though his optic feed had dimmed to nearly nothing, he knew to his spark that the first and most difficult stage of forging a new Great Sword was complete and it had worked. Strength of Conviction hummed in pleasure and approval; it was all the confirmation he needed of his success.

He'd never realized before that the Sovereign's office wasn't a replica of a complete Great Sword. It was only the crystal. A crystal that was shaped by sound and power to run the full core of each weapon. Up the hilt, across the guard and down the blade. It was beautiful in its perfection and soon the bulk of the work would be covered by decorative metal. A crystal that could have been the spark chamber of a mecha was now the focal crystal for a new Great Sword.

The large blue Knight was being carefully watched. The Sovereign was watching with a critical optic from a distance, as much to make sure Dai Atlas didn't collapse from exhaustion as to monitor his progress. Vanguard clearly remembered the first time he had forged a Great Sword and how completely drained he had been afterward. But, in the end, it had been worth it. He could see in every line of Dai Atlas' frame that the giant felt the same. He _understood_ the lesson already.

A private smile curved the Seeker's lip plates before he pinged Axe. ::Please come to the forge and collect your mate. It is time for him to rest.::

::On my way,:: the black and gold Knight replied.

A klik later, the doors of the forge opened to admit Axe. Nodding to Vanguard, Axe walked over to where Dai Atlas knelt, taking a firm hold of his mate's frame.

"Come on, Dai," he murmured in the larger mech's audial. "Time to rest."

The larger triple changer grunted softly as he struggled to his pedes, more than willing to follow where his mate led him. He leaned heavily on Axe, needing the support as badly as he needed recharge.

"Try to get him to refuel," Vanguard told Axe quietly as the pair stumbled out.

"He'll refuel if I have to stick a funnel in him and pour the energon in that way," Axe grunted in response, wrapping one arm around his mate's midsection and helping Dai Atlas from the forge. "Considering how exhausted he is right now, I might just have to."

The Sovereign inclined his helm in understanding and watched the couple leave before his smile returned. It was a look neither Axe nor Dai Atlas saw as they made their way to their quarters. Sheerwing appeared half way there to support his carrier's other side, taking much of the weight off Axe.

Axe nodded a greeting to Sheerwing, shifting his grip to let his sparkling find a better grip. "Let's get him to the berth... He needs to refuel, but he's probably going to pass out before someone even brings the energon."

Wing was waiting for them, a large energon cube already in his hands. Gold optics flitted from Axe to Dai Atlas, the small jet shifting from pede to pede.

"He'll be fine," Axe assured him as they worked to get Dai Atlas onto the berth. "He just needs lots of recharge, energon and some cuddling."

"Not dead yet," Dai Atlas mumbled, reaching rather blindly for the energon he could feel but not see.

"You look it," Wing informed him, walking over and holding out the cube. "I'm not sure I've ever really seen you this exhausted." The white mech waited for Dai Atlas to settle, then climbed onto the berth, sliding onto his creator's torso.

"Haven't been," he mumbled, accepting Axe's assistance in holding the cube to his lips so he could let it flow down his intake in a single river of liquid energy. Soon red optics brightened slightly and the tremors stopped. With a low, relieved sigh Dai Atlas relaxed against his mate. "The worst is over. The rest is decorative work. Long and fiddly, but nothing I can't lay down and come back to."

"You're not getting back to it until you're fully rested," Axe told his mate firmly. "That way, you can get back to it with a clear processor."

"Stay put," Wing added, parking himself on Dai Atlas' chest and looking up at the bigger mech with wide, shining optics.

"No intention of moving," Dai Atlas smiled at his family before shuttering his optics. He reached to pull Wing flat as his systems shut down and snuggled against his mate without even thinking about it.

"Recharge well, carrier," Sheerwing smiled in amusement at the scene before slipping away to let them rest.

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The Circle of Masters had assembled in the Sovereign's office once more. Vanguard at the far right of the semi-circle, with Marwir and Tornado between him and Aurora. All of them were standing silently, optics on the large blue Knight as he brought the Great Sword he had forged before them. They had each taken turns in watching him, the giant's stamina exceeding each of theirs, but also because they all still had other duties while Dai Atlas had few demands on him other than to work on the Great Sword with its clear gem he now held in both hands.

With smooth grace Dai Atlas knelt on one knee before Sovereign Vanguard and lifted the newly forged Great Sword on flat palms, presenting it and offering himself to judgment.

Vanguard took the Sword, inspecting it carefully. His optics took in every detail, fingers brushing lightly over the gem's setting. Once he completed his inspection, he handed the blade to Marwir, turning his attention to Dai Atlas.

"Does the Great Sword have a designation?" he asked, white optics taking in the posture of supplication from one he would soon call a true equal.

"Dei Curatio: Guidance of the Light," Dai Atlas responded, never twitching from his position.

Tornado hummed softly as he accepted the blade from Marwir, inspecting it thoroughly before passing it to Aurora. "Flawless work," the blue and gray flier murmured, looking at Vanguard.

"Flawless," the Sovereign agreed, pausing to regard the mech whose contradictions still gave him processor aches. How anyone could be so completely submissive and yet bear such absolute authority as naturally as his armor was beyond the Seeker. Yet he could not deny that Dai Atlas had not only completed every test set before him, but done so far better than expected. An exceptional student who would be an exceptional leader once more. "And beautifully crafted. You went well beyond the basic design given to you."

"You once said that each blade is as much a reflection of the mecha who forged it as the first to bond to it," Dai Atlas replied quietly, evenly. "This is the best of all I have been."

Aurora nodded and flicked her wings in subtle agreement that Dai Atlas could not see.

"Stand and join your peers, Senior Master Dai Atlas," the Sovereign said with ritual cadence, his voice even despite the pride and warmth in his field. "We welcome you to the Circle of Masters."

"Welcome," Aurora smiled, her wings canted and fluttering lightly in a very pleased greeting as he stood and took in the mecha who had made his existence a living pit for the past millennia and a half. "It is good to have you in our rank."

"You are very welcome among us," Tornado agreed, extending his hand and shaking it firmly. "Congratulations."

Vanguard's field reached out to brush against Dai Atlas', expressing his pride in the older mech. "And now that your torture - erm, training - is complete, you can catch up on all the recharge and jet cuddles we deprived you of." White optics gleamed with amusement.

Dai Atlas chuckled, his field brushing against each of theirs with his amusement, relief and pride in having completed the training. "I'm going to have to learn how to have time off all over again."

"I'm sure Wing will be happy to help you there," Marwir smirked and clapped his arm. "Go enjoy your family and a few orns to recharge."

"Yes, Hardwing will expect you for a full physical before you are back on the regular rotation again," Vanguard chuckled. "For now, go celebrate."

"I intend to," Dai Atlas inclined his helm politely before turning to leave, his wings vibrating with excitement as he reached out to brush against his mate's spark. ~Are you free, love?~

~I just finished for the orn,~ Axe replied. ~And I just found a pile of white on our couch... Looks like Star came back for some family time. She and Wing are curled up in a ball, out cold.~ He sent an image through the bond.

~That is too cute for words ... and means that if you don't wake them, we can have some time to ourselves before we're assaulted,~ he chuckled.

~We can indeed,~ the black and gold Knight purred. He took a few more pictures, both for his own files and for what he called the "family album". ~I'll be waiting for you.~


	22. The Smoldering Embers of War

Fandom: Transformers G1  
Author: gatekat, ultrarodimus on LJ  
Pairing: Axe/Dai Atlas/Titanus, Wing/Tradewinds  
Rating: PG-13  
Codes: Slash, Historical Setting, Knights of Light  
Disclaimer: The authors are only playing with their own twisted muses. Transformers belong to Hasbro. Fandom-side, check the inspirations page (gatekat-fics .livejournal 290 .html). We draw from a ton of amazing stories and authors you should read.  
The cyber-kitten: (gorechick .deviantart art/Kitty-Jazz-90551785)

**Kneeling to the Sword 22: The Smoldering Embers of War**  
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Vanguard sat behind his desk, wings pulled as close to his back as he could get them, waiting for Demeter to answer his summons. He had news for the small Knight, news no Knight, and especially no Daoshi, ever wanted to hear. One hand tightened slightly on the edge of the datapad he was holding, containing all of the information he had been able to collect.

The door opened a few kliks later to admit her, the rich brown psudo-fur covering her tail and part of her frame was fluffed out in distress. She'd heard in his tone very clearly that something was terribly wrong. One glance at the Seeker told her he wasn't angry, so she leapt up to the desk top to speak with him more on optic level. "What happened, sir?"

"We have received some... disturbing news," Vanguard replied, looking solemnly at the smaller femme. "It is about Stiletto."

Her long fluffy tail twitched. "Imprisoned?"

Her Initiate wasn't mellow, but he hardly had a temper either. His most dangerous trait out in the real world was an inability to back down from protecting someone he viewed as a victim. She knew before she watched him leave that it could get him in trouble out there, but that was also part of the point of a walkabout.

Vanguard slid the datapad across the desk toward her. "He was in the city of Tarn when there was an outbreak of violence. Stiletto was caught in the crossfire, trying to save another mecha. He was killed."

Deep brown optics dimmed and shuttered for a moment, only the very tip of her tail showing any movement that she was even functioning.

"Who has his frame and weapons?" she asked after a lingering moment.

"His weapons were taken as trophies by those who deactivated him. They have either taken his frame or disposed of it somewhere in the depths of Tarn." Burgundy armor ruffled slightly. "Flame of Justice must be retrieved; his frame as well, if it is possible."

"Tracer code?" she asked quietly, falling back on thought patters far older than her current function.

"The last location given by his locator beacon is on the datapad. Once you are close you should be able to pick up the low-power signal it will broadcast for a vorn after deactivation," the Sovereign replied. "Your Great Sword will lead you to his, once you are close enough for them to contact each other." White optics took in the small microbot before him as he gauged her reaction. "You may take any other Knight or Knights you choose with you to help, as long as they are agreeable."

She nodded, digesting the information on the datapad as her tail shivered with emotion. "I will ask Dai Atlas and Axe. They are better suited than most to fly into a war zone."

"They have the experience and the armor for it." Vanguard nodded. He handed her a credit stick. "This will give you access to the Citadel's funds, if it is necessary."

She took it and nodded, placing both stick and pad in subspace. Her manner finished shifting to a hard one much more suited to Dai Atlas than the playful creature he knew her to be.

"We'll leave as soon as we've prepared, fueled and convinced Wing not to follow," she told him. "Is there anything else?"

"All the information we have is on the datapad." Vanguard twined his fingers together. "I wish you success in bringing Stiletto's frame and weapons home."

"We will," she said firmly, her tail flicking in determination. "Thank you, Sovereign," she added softly as she jumped to the floor and transformed to trot out on all fours. ::Dai Atlas, Axe.:: she pinged them. ::I have a retrieval mission I would ask you to join.::

::Retrieving what?:: Dai Atlas came back, though his tone indicated he'd already agreed.

::The frame and weapons of my Initiate, Stiletto.::

::What happened?:: Axe asked, his attention drawn away from the bookfile he'd been reading. ::What city was he in?::

::Tarn. Caught in a riot trying to protect those there,:: she sighed, both angry and proud. ::It's an active war zone. No Wing. Let's keep it to former military.::

::We'll be ready within the joor,:: Axe replied. ::And yes, Wing stays here.::

Putting aside the bookfile, the black and gold mech nudged at the white jet drowsing on his lap. Wing blinked up at him, but obligingly moved off his lap onto the couch.

"What's going on?" the white jet asked, watching Axe walk toward the supply cabinets.

"We're going on a mission with Demeter," he answered, his tone dark. "You are _not_ coming."

Wing sat up on the couch. "I'm not? Why not? Where are you going?"

"We are going into a war zone and you are _not_," Dai Atlas' rumble from the balcony as he entered was a deadly serious as Wing had ever heard him. "We have the armor and training to make it back without an extra corpse."

The young mech inclined his helm, settling back on the couch. He was well aware of the amount of armor on his frame. "Point made. I'll behave." Wing watched the two bigger mechs. "Why are you going, though? What happened?"

Axe paused and reached a gentle hand out to brush his mate's arm as the larger mech passed him on the way to the berthroom to pack. "Stiletto was caught in an uprising. Demeter's asked for our assistance in bringing his remains and weapons back. I don't expect it'll be a clean mission. Or a quick one. Not where he ended up."

Wing's armor tightened to his frame. "Stiletto is deactivated?" He chewed on that for a moment. "It's getting more and more dangerous outside the Citadel... I can see why you don't want me along."

"Good," Axe relaxed with relief. "Yes, it is. More dangerous, more desperate and far closer to the war we saw as inevitable on our walkabout. It won't be much longer before it finds the leader it's been looking for. I only hope we're ready when that happens."

"Worse than any force the raiders have ever fielded. I don't even want to think about it." Wing shuddered. "You'll be all right?"

"There's nothing Cybertron can throw at us that we haven't faced before," Axe promised. "We'll be back."

Relief made Wing's armor fluff back out. Even though he _knew_ his creators were experienced warriors, he was still nervous about them going into battle.

::Wing?:: Tradewinds pinged him. ::Are you going?:: Real distress echoed in the shuttle's vocals.

::No, I'm not going,:: Wing reassured his lover. ::It's too dangerous; I don't have the armor or the experience.::

The sound across the come was utter relief. ::Who is? That little turbofox is not going alone, is she?::

::Dai Atlas and Axe are going with her. They're the most experienced warriors in the Citadel, and they have the best armor for going into a combat situation.:: Wing settled where he was, watching the two big mechs packing.

There was a long pause. ::Are they in their quarters?::

::Yes. They're packing, getting ready to leave. Demeter should be here soon, too,:: Wing replied.

::I'll be over in a breem,:: Tradewinds told him. ::Have them stick around, if they try to leave before I get there?::

::Will do,:: Wing chirped, ruffling his armor. ::Though it looks like they'll take a while longer to get everything together.::

There was another pause. ::Where are they going?::

::They didn't say, and I haven't heard anything from anyone else yet. But wherever it is, it's an active conflict zone.:: Wing shrugged, even though he knew Tradewinds couldn't see it.

::That doesn't narrow things down that much,:: Tradewinds replied quietly.

"Who are you chatting with?" Axe asked over his shoulder.

"Tradewinds," Wing replied. "He was asking if I was going with you; he's very relieved that I'm not. And he's wondering where you're going."

"Tarn, at least to start with," Axe replied now that he was confident that Wing wouldn't follow. "That's his last known location and where he deactivated. We won't be so out of contact this time," he added with a slight smile. "We can comm to chat when things are calm, and we'll be back as soon as we retrieve everything."

Wing perked up. "I'm very glad to hear that." ::They're going to Tarn... That's where Stiletto deactivated.::

::Deactivated ... I'm sorry,:: Tradewinds murmured.

::They're going to retrieve his frame and his weapons,:: Wing added, one wing shifting.

Everyone fell silent for the remainder of the breem until Tradewinds' engines approached and he set down on the balcony. "May I come in?" He called out politely.

Axe looked up. "Come in."

"Axe, Wing," he nodded to the two he could see. "Is your mate here?" he focused on the black and gold Knight.

"Yes," Dai Atlas responded from the berthroom.

"Would you come out for a moment," the shuttle shifted uneasily. "I'd like to speak with you both."

Dai Atlas was drawn out by curiosity as much as by the request. Both Axe and Wing looked at the shuttle curiously, the black and gold Knight exchanging a puzzled look with Wing before turning his attention back to Tradewinds. "About what?"

"I've heard enough around here to know you're both aware of how bad it's getting out there," Tradewinds shifting his wings before offering a datapad and cred stick to Axe, as the closer of the pair to him. "These are my contacts and the debts you may collect in my designation if you need them, and credits to back whatever the Order has authorized."

Axe's optic ridges went up in surprise as he accepted the datapad and the credit stick. "Thank you... but why?"

"You mean the world to Wing," Tradewinds said simply. "Tarn may be in better shape than Kaon or Trypticon, but it's still bad. Corruption is nearly complete. You'll need to be able to call in favors or bribe the right mecha to get anywhere. I can always earn more credits and favors. You can't be replaced."

"Thank you," Dai Atlas grunted, though there was a softness to the sound.

Wing bounced over to pounce on Tradewinds, hugging him tightly. "Thank you," he whispered, earning a smile that melted into pleasure. To everyone who saw it, that thank you and hug from Wing was what made all he'd handed over worth it.

"Anything for you," Tradewinds murmured with a kiss to Wing's crest. For the first time, Dai Atlas truly began to believe he meant it.

Axe smiled at the two of them, carefully putting the credit stick and the datapad in his subspace. He and Dai Atlas returned to their preparations while Tradewinds tugged Wing to the couch to sit and talk quietly.

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

"Of course it was dumped in one of the few places we're more disadvantage than advantage," Dai Atlas grumbled to the microbot in his cockpit as they navigated the treacherous airspace of the lower levels, headed ever farther deeper. "You'll get to him a lot faster than we can once we're on the right level."

"Just get me as close as you can," she rumbled lightly. "I'll find what's left of him."

Axe muttered something rude under his breath, flipping on his side to avoid getting snagged on a protruding edge. His glossy black paint already bore a few scuffs from near-misses in the tight spaces. A petro-gull screeched insults at him as he got too close to its nest. "Those who deactivated him clearly did not want anyone to find him."

"I have doubts that _they're_ the ones to dump him. If he perished in a riot they wouldn't have bothered to hide the remains," Dai Atlas grumbled as he opened fire with long-absent alt-form weapons to clear a path large enough for him down the garbage congested path to the next level. "It saves money to make bodies just go away, rather than properly deal with them."

Demeter hissed in anger, her long, thick tail lashing back and forth as she watched the dot on the display that was their target.

"You have a point. But that doesn't make this any less aggravating." Axe slid sideways slightly to avoid another sharp edge, following his mate's path as closely as he could.

"No, it doesn't," Dai Atlas agreed. "I believe he is on this level."

"Going any lower would be a nightmare," the black and gold Knight observed, eying the passages to the lower levels. "I have my doubts that we would be able to fit any lower."

"Not without using a lot of firepower," Dai Atlas agreed as his flight leveled out, homing in on the signal. "I'm just glad that Titan has an apartment here. We can recharge in safety and we don't have to worry about Stiletto's remains while we look for Flame of Justice."

"And he's got it so well secured we don't have to worry about anyone or anything breaking in," Axe agreed. He let out a growl as a chunk of debris fell from somewhere above, clanging off his chassis. "When we find Flame of Justice, we find Stiletto's killers."

"And Primus can sort them out," Demeter growled with another lash of her tail.

"You find him, we'll be up here until you have a better idea where he is?" Dai Atlas suggested as they came to a stop over the beacon, though it only got them within a block of their target.

"Will do," she nodded and transformed, well aware that her long-legged canine form was better suited to this hunt. Dai Atlas lowered as close as he dared to the pile of bodies, debris and old buildings that was the current dump site from above. He opened his cockpit and watched her jump out before lifting up to join his mate in providing her cover from above, such as they could.

Scores of small red optics glinted at them from the shadows, revealing the presence of dozens of turbo-rats. Metal claws skittered over other metal on all sides. Most of the scavenger mechanimals remained in the shadows, but some particularly bold specimens eased out into the open, closing in on Demeter despite her greater size.

Axe growled softly, blowing a hole through one of the turbo-rats. The rest scuttled back into the darkness, glaring balefully but remaining at a distance. "And watch out for pests," the black mech called down to Demeter.

"My jaws are still good at snapping them in half," she yipped back and set her nose to tracking the familiar scent attached to the beacon that was pinging at her.

"It's what earned her designation," Dai Atlas chuckled. "She cleared barracks of pests when she wasn't scouting."

"I'm less worried about the four-legged vermin than I am about the two-legged variety," Axe retorted, one wing twitching. "A body-pile like this is bound to attract scrap dealers and fuel leeches."

"I know," Dai Atlas rumbled, scanners active and searching for any signs of activity beyond Demeter and the turbo-rats as she worked her way out of their sight and into the darkness of the jumbled parts of bodies, buildings and goods that no one wanted to pay credits for.

Turbo-rats scuttled out of the way as something moved in the shadows, optics lighting up a sickly venom-green. "Well, well, what have we here?" A mecha eased into view, old fluids staining his armor, helm cocked to one side, regarding the long-limbed turbo-fox. His armor was patchwork, seemingly pieced together from whatever had been handy. One hand held a wicked-looking serrated blade, used for cutting frames into smaller pieces and cutting out parts.

"More trouble than you can handle," she growled back, her brown optics glowing towards maroon as she challenged the gutter-mech.

The scavenger's grin was more smirk than anything else, and he tilted the hand holding the knife. "I wonder how much your parts will go for... Or that furry hide of yours." He advanced a step closer.

With a snort Demeter transformed and drew her short swords. Despite the gruesome, unstable and uneven ground, her frame was relaxed. "A good deal more than your spark will."

The patchwork mech paused. Then, taking in the size of the femme he faced, that sickly grin reappeared. "Scrawny little glitch-mouse like you can't damage me." He advanced on her, optics glinting with anticipation.

She was relaxed, confident in her ability to fight and to judge her opponent and that this one was fundamentally harmless to her.

The mech didn't even bother to try to hide his intentions. He just charged her, thrusting the knife toward her midsection, trying to impale her with one strike. Unfortunately for him, he had never encountered a Knight before, or anyone other than fellow scavengers or the mecha who bought the scavenged parts from him. He had no idea how to fight a creature with military grade reflexes, armor and training.

With a smooth leap to the side she slashed out at his leg in a move drilled into every young Initiate as the place to start disabling an opponent. Letting out a cry of surprise and pain, the mech stumbled, slashing out wildly and with no aim at all. Hobbling on his wounded leg, he tried again to strike her.

Demeter grinned with a feral expression that was far more act than truth and moved in to slice the control cables of his other leg at the hip joint before dancing away.

The scavenger-mech cursed vilely, collapsing onto the heap of bodies. He floundered for a long moment, eying the microbot with considerably more wariness than before. This was not what he had been expecting. "You wretched little piece of slag!"

"So, now comes the interesting question," she sauntered up, remaining just out of his reach. "Just how much do you want to live?"

Spitting a few other foul phrases, the scavenger managed to push himself at least partially upright. Glaring at Demeter, he slunk back into the darkness.

"Ten credits says he falls victim to another scavenger within two joors," Axe called down from above.

"He's of more use to me alive," she growled and stalked after him, knocking the scavenger onto his back with a swift kick. "You know pit well why anyone like me would be down here," she glared down.

The mech bared fuel-stained denta at her. "What the Pit do you want from me?" he snarled, clutching his knife defensively. "You go your way, let me go mine, and we're all happy."

"I have energon and fixing your legs that says you'd rather help me find my friend's remains," she cocked her helm at him. "Because we both know Axe is right. You won't last two joors with your legs like that."

Green optics narrowed at her. "You would repair me if I help you find one body in all of this mess."

"And his parts," she nodded.

The scavenger regarded her for a long, silent moment, glancing up at the two much larger mecha circling overhead. Finally, he grunted assent. "You have an image of the frame I'm going to be looking for?"

Demeter nodded and brought up a holo of her Initiate taken less than a vorn before he left the safety of the Citadel. She set the small projector, something she didn't care if she lost, on his chest before she knelt to make short work of soldering the cut cables back together. "Remember, there's energon ... or parts ... in it for you when I get him back."

The mech regarded the image for a few kliks, taking in the lines and angles of his armor. "The blades I haven't seen, but that frame, I have. The rats were chewing on him when I came across his remains. Once I can walk, I'll show you."

"I know where the swords are," she nodded and focused on repairs, making quick work of the clean cuts.

The mech watched her warily, every so often glancing up as the sound of powerful engines echoed down. His hand tightened on his knife, but he showed no inclination to use it. He would much rather get out of this with his spark still in his frame. He sent commands to his legs when she stood, palming the projector as she moved, half surprised they seemed to be functioning again.

"Where are his remains?" Demeter asked, her tone expectant.

Testing his legs to make sure they would respond the way he wanted, the scavenger climbed to his pedes. "This way." He walked off across the piled bodies, his dull patchwork armor almost blending into the shadows. The sound of his pedefalls helped track his progress. Overhead, the circling triple changers followed as best they could, keeping away from obstacles while keeping their sensors on the scavenger as Demeter padded after him in her four-legged alt.

Her nose suddenly snapped up with a deep intake. ::He's close.::

The scavenger stopped next to a pile of debris a short distance away. "There he is."

Stiletto's frame was crumpled against the wall, his chestplate warped and blasted open from the shot that had extinguished him. The gaping wound showed the clear marks of scavenging by the swarms of turbo-rats lurking just on the edges of the shadows. There were no signs that the scavenger-mecha had started stripping his frame yet, likely dumb luck from the mass of bodies that had arrived all at once. Glowing points of light in several different colors announced that glow beetles had infested the frame, going after bits of energon-rich metal.

"Energon, credits or parts?" Demeter asked. ::Can either of you get here or do I need to drag him into an open area?::

"Credits aren't worth much down here," the mech grunted, shifting from pede to pede nervously as Axe descended slowly, checking the clearance. "Energon. Parts. Those are what're actually worth something."

::I might be able to get down... Though getting back out might be a bit of a challenge,:: Axe replied after a moment.

::I'm quite strong enough to move him to where Dai dropped me off,:: she assured him as she took a cube of energon from her subspace and offered it to the scavenger. "Knights of Light are good to their word."

Warily, the mech accepted the cube, retreating a few steps as he took a long drink of the liquid energy. Green optics flared in surprise at the quality. It was far better than anything he'd had in a long time.

::It would probably be a good idea,:: Axe confessed after a moment of thought and calculations. ::Where he is right now is too cramped for me to be able to maneuver well.::

::Then I'll be out in a moment,:: she told him before grabbing Stiletto's shoulders and heaving with far more strength than her tiny frame would have indicated. Progress was walking backwards, slow and awkward, but not truly straining for her frame.

The scavenger had an incredulous look on his face as he watched the tiny femme dragging the lifeless frame that was considerably larger than she was. Making a note to avoid underestimating other small mecha, particularly those carrying swords like hers, he faded back into the shadows and disappeared entirely.

Axe had already transformed and touched down at the place where Demeter had been let out of Dai Atlas' cockpit. The big black and gold Knight stood in the most open spot he could find, to make sure he had the room to take off again once he had Stiletto's frame. He watched as Demeter dragged, tugged and yanked the gray from where it had fallen towards him, nearly as amazed as the scavenger had been at her strength.

~Amazingly strong for her frame size,~ Axe commented to his mate, one audial spike twitching slightly. He shifted his weight ever so slightly, entirely too aware that he was standing on layer upon layer of bodies.

~Yes, her class always are,~ Dai Atlas was deeply amused despite the situation, memories of watching other microbot and minibot scouts showing off passing to his mate until she'd dragged Stiletto close enough for Axe to pick up.

~It was always amusing to watch when someone underestimated them and got their skidplates handed to them for it,~ Axe snickered in response. He gently lifted Stiletto's grayed frame, scooping up Demeter in the process. Once he was sure he had a firm hold on both, the black and gold Knight ignited his turbines, lifting off and out of the tight space to find a spot where he could transform without getting snagged on something.

The flight back to Titanium's apartment in Tarn was silent, everyone occupied by their own thoughts and the pressure by their Great Swords to retrieve their fellow _now_. By the time they landed they were all ready to evict the wildlife from Stiletto's frame, clean up and head out to quiet their Great Swords.

Axe placed Stiletto's frame down on the table in the apartment's kitchen area, retrieving a large, empty energon container to keep all the critters that were infesting the fallen Knight's frame from getting loose. The black mech frowned into Stiletto's ruined chest, watching the beetles moving around and hearing the skittering from under other armor panels.

He and Dai Atlas watched as Demeter went to work, her nimble little hands moving fast to grab, extract and toss the beetles into the offered cube.

"Our hands might be too big for this," Axe commented after a moment, lifting one of his own for emphasis.

"It's okay," she told them, tossing another beetle into the cube. "I'm good at getting into little spaces. We all have our skills."

The beetles crawled over each other in the cube, their shells glowing every color of the spectrum.

"Wing will want those," Dai Atlas chuckled.

Glitch mice tried to skitter out of her way, deeper into Stiletto's circuitry as she carefully opened more and more of his frame up. As Demeter reached under a mass of systems after another beetle, a set of sharp teeth latched onto her hand, revealing the presence of a turbo-rat.

An equally sharp yip, more of surprise than pain, and Demeter twisted her hand to grab the creature who'd bit her and yanked it out. "I don't think he'll want this," she growled, uncertain what to do with the much larger beastie.

Axe took hold of the creature, eying it as it hissed and snapped at him. "No one would want this thing." He walked out onto the balcony and tossed it over the rail, watching for a moment as it clawed at the air, then turned and walked back inside. Demeter was already back at work, unconcerned by the bite wound.

"I'll need another cube for the glitch-mice," she commented as she caught one.

"Right here." Axe brought over another empty cube. "The glitch mice we can release back into the lower levels... They're harmless. The same for the beetles, unless Wing wants to set up a habitat and keep a few."

Dai Atlas considered the cubes and pinged Wing's comm.

::Yes?:: Wing replied after a moment. He'd been in the middle of his orn's chores, pausing to respond to the call.

::We've retrieved Stiletto's frame and now have quite a collection of glow beetles and glitch mice. Do you want them, or should we release them back into the lower levels?::

::Not the glitch mice, but maybe a half dozen of the beetles. I'll set up a habitat for them and have it ready by the time you get back.:: Wing's chirr carried clearly through the comm. ::I'm not picky about shell color.::

::We'll bring you a variety,:: Dai Atlas chuckled. ::We'll looking forward to coming home soon. The difficult part is over.::

::I'll be very eagerly waiting for you to return,:: Wing replied, trilling softly before the connection was closed.

"He does want a few of these, I take it." Axe nabbed a beetle trying to crawl away across the table, its shell matching the color of Dai Atlas' optics.

"A half dozen or so, any colors," the blue giant chuckled with a nod. "No mice though."

"Then you have something to do while I clear out the frame," Demeter teased them, dropping another glitch-mouse into the cubes of them. "We're going to dump them back in the lower levels before leaving?"

"I like this one." Axe showed his catch to his mate, tilting it so the deep red shell caught and reflected the overhead lights along with its own internal glow. "And yes, we'll dump the mice back into the lower levels when we go after Stiletto's swords." He deposited the red beetle in a smaller container, putting the container aside.

"It matches my optics," Dai Atlas chuckled. "We'll need a blue one, and yellow-golden, purple and another red then."

"You two are so cute when it comes to that little flutter-bot you adopted," Demeter laughed, the pile of beetles growing by several more.

"We've got quite a selection." Axe glanced at the glowing cube. Spotting a blue one, he scooped it out and put it with the red. ~Let's go clean up, love... We can sort beetles while Demeter takes her turn.~

~Mmm, works for me,~ he purred, cleaning up not his only intention. "Yip if you need us. We're going to get the lower-level stench off."

"Have fun," she grinned at the pair as another beetle landed in the cube.

"We intend to," Axe replied with a grin, sauntering in the direction of the washracks. Gleaming blue optics flicked in Dai Atlas' direction.

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

Several joors later found the trio back in Tarn's underworld, following the pull of their own Great Swords as the blades reached out to Stiletto's Flame of Justice. It was leading them to a different level, a level that had all the looks of being an active war ground. All three Knights were carrying their weapons openly as a warning to potential attackers. This was one place that size and military bearing went a long way towards not being challenged. Unlike Demeter, Axe and Dai Atlas _looked_ like they could take on anyone and pound them to scrap.

And that they were quite willing to do so.

"Close," she growled from Axe's shoulder, her Dancer in the Sun's forest green gem glowing brightly, the entire blade crackled with energy in its desire to save its kin.

Shady-looking mecha watched them warily from the sides of the road and the alleys between the buildings. Armor edged in rust and scarred from innumerable fights flared slightly. Battered but functional weapons were carried openly by clusters and gangs of mecha skulking through the shadows.

"I feel it," Axe murmured back, the amethyst jewel in Sentry of Balance's hilt pulsing with purple fire.

Dai Atlas simply nodded, trusting that is all three weapons were in agreement, then they were going the correct direction.

There was movement ahead of them. Mecha began moving out of the concealing darkness into view, forming a barrier across the street ahead of the three Knights. The gang members were heavily armored, but not to military standards. They all carried weapons; rusted blades, vibro-weapons, energy blades, and blasters. In the lead was a heavily-built mecha with mottled gray and dull green armor, a tank or some other kind of heavy vehicle. His face bore a permanent-looking sneer, and the jeweled hilt of Flame of Justice thrust up over his shoulder, the gleaming jewel, normally a molten lava red, looked dull. The blade was crudely wrapped in wire and slung across the gang leader's back.

Axe's armor bristled slightly, one hand tightening on the hilt of his short sword. On his shoulder Demeter snarled and leapt to the ground with a smooth landing, both short swords unsheathed.

"That," Dai Atlas pointed to the Great Sword on the gang leader's back, "was a mistake to claim."

"Who says?" the gang leader sneered at him. "You two strangers and your little pet? Stupid mech got in our way, and he paid the price for his interference. I had the right to take whatever I want off his twisted corpse."

A snarl started low in Axe's chest. "That mech was our comrade. His weapons are not yours. Return them."

"Or we'll take them from _your_ twisted copse," Demeter growled, well aware of the larger mechs' battle readiness behind her. Privately she smiled, knowing they'd all but ignore her once the giants began to move.

"You and what army? If you haven't noticed, you're outnumbered and surrounded." The gang leader swept out an arm, indicating what appeared to be at least a couple of dozen mecha, maybe more, who had come out of the shadows and alleys to surround the three Knights. Two of them, clearly the leader's lieutenants or enforcers, carried Stiletto's short swords in their massive hands. "Once your handlers have been dealt with, I'll take their weapons and maybe keep you as my personal pet." A sickening leer appeared on the mech's face.

"Come try," Demeter smiled back, her expression one of smug pleasure.

A ripple of anticipation ran through the surrounding gang, accompanied by a mutter and the sound of weapons being lifted. Axe eyed them, armor puffed to make himself look even more intimidating, drawing his own short swords from their sheaths. The gang paused for the briefest of moments upon seeing the gleaming blades, short swords to their wielder but easily as long as the smaller mechas' entire frames, then they seemed to take reinforcement from their own numbers, and the muttering resumed.

There was another slight pause as Dai Atlas let out a rumble of pure anticipation, his field and frame flaring with excitement as he drew his short swords, a pair even larger than his mate's, and turned to put his back to Axe.

"Take them," the gang leader ordered, and the surrounding mecha surged forward.

With a roar Dai Atlas responded with a sweeping outward slash of both his blades, clearing the mecha within reach of their existence in their frames.

There were even more mecha than anticipated; clearly more had been hiding in the shadows. Axe let out a deep snarl as he lashed out, taking off several helms with one slice, bringing his other blade down to cut a larger mecha cleanly in half from left shoulder to right hip. The mech's shocked optics stared up at him for an instant before the bisected body fell to the ground and vanished under the crush of charging gang members.

The gang leader stood back with his lieutenants, watching with a dark expression on his face as his subordinates were cut down. The two giant mechs didn't just look military, clearly they were military or former military. He couldn't even see the small femme anymore.

A sharp pain in his left leg just before it stopped responding drew his attention down to the dark brown micro-bot femme that had slashed through the control cables and wiring in a single smooth move. He bellowed in rage as his leg collapsed under him, and he grabbed at the closest mecha to steady himself. "You slag-sucking, glitching little whorebot!"

Gang mecha actually flinched back a bit as Axe reached over his shoulder to draw his ax, the razor-sharp blades backed by all the power in the black and gold mech's upper frame cutting right through three mecha without stopping. The return stroke caught a lunging heavy frame with the top of the ax shaft, crushing in the side of his helm.

Nearby Dai Atlas had stepped forward to him himself more room, enough for gang members to get behind him ... just in time to have their helms removed when the giant spun in a wide circle with blades flashing.

Demeter laughed, intentionally mimicking her alt-mode yip as she leapt up to slash at the leader's face, only enough to mar it, not cut it in half. Her other short sword slashed into his shoulder armor.

The gang leader's expression was ugly as he drew a nasty-looking vibroblade and lashed out at her. Trying to stand on only one working leg, he took another swing, trying to gut the midget who dared to try and bring him down. "You'll pay for that!"

While one lieutenant tried to support his leader, the other brandished the stolen short sword and lunged at her. For all his gang-level skill, he wasn't used to tackling such small targets, and never ones with the built up and highly trained reflexes that a military scout turned Knight of Light had to display. She leapt up again as she dodged the short sword and took off the mech's hand with one clean swing.

Helmless and bisected frames were beginning to pile up, some of them being crushed underpede by the other gang members or the two giants. Axe brought one pede down hard, metal crunching as a twitching mecha cut in half at the waist was put out of his misery.

With gang members going down by the multiples with each swing, they soon began to thin out and those left were understandably wary of getting within physical range of the giants.

Axe's gin was almost feral as he eyed the remaining gang members. "Who's next?" He shifted his grip on his ax, the sharp blades glittering wickedly. The gang mecha eyed him warily, taking in the fuel and vital fluids liberally spattered over Axe's frame.

"Bring down that little whorebot!" the gang leader screamed furiously to the closest mecha, jabbing his vibroblade in the direction of Demeter as she danced about the three leaders, slashing here and here with no intent to kill quickly, if at all.

"Good luck!" Dai Atlas laughed as he lunged for the nearest gang member to himself. "You killed her student. She's going to make it _slow_."

"Shut your intake!" the gang leader spat in Dai Atlas' direction. "Kill her! Bring me that furry hide!"

~Doesn't know when to quit, does he,~ Axe commented privately, splitting another gang mecha's helm in two vertically with his ax.

~Obviously,~ Dai Atlas chuckled, watching in amusement as the minor members shifted after what seemed to be easier quarry. ~Wonder how long it'll take them to realize she's just as dangerous as we are?~ he added as her first slash decapitated the first gang member to close on her.

~Not until her blade's about halfway through their necks,~ the black and gold mech retorted. ~Everyone always underestimates the small mecha.~ He unleashed a kick, sending another mech slamming backward into a wall, stunning him and leaving him in a limp heap on the ground.

~Sometimes even other small mecha,~ he grinned and grabbed a mech who turned his back to go after Demeter and threw him as far as he was able, more than willing to watch the former scout deal damage at every turn.

~And microbots tend to be the most underestimated of the small mecha. The general impression is that something that small can't be that dangerous.~ Axe's chuckle was evil as he brought down another gang member, the remaining members of the gang breaking and running in panic. Not many were left alive, and very few were unwounded.

The gang leader's scream of rage echoed off the buildings, his optics blazing with utter fury. One hand lifted as if to grasp the hilt of the Great Sword slung over his back. The molten-fire red gem flickered and flared, causing all three others to snarl in outrage to their bearers.

"Don't you _dare_," Demeter's snarl echoed the Great Swords' as her short swords were sheathed. She reached up to draw Dancer in the Sun, a blade only the length of an average mecha' arm but crackling with power as it drew on her very spark.

"What's to stop me?" he sneered at her, bracing himself as best he could with only one working leg. The gang leader eyed her as she drew her Great Sword, taking in the energy crackling along its blade.

"Give us the Sword!" Axe's roar echoed off the walls, startling the surviving gangsters and the wary mecha watching from a distance.

The sound hadn't even faded when she lunged, Great Sword over her helm. With a single motion she cleaved the leader in two, cleaning missing Flame of Justice still on his back.

There was utter silence from the surviving gang members, those who hadn't fled, as they stared at their leader's bisected frame. Shocked optics went from the graying frame to the tiny femme, trying to accept what they had just witnessed.

Axe stalked forward, ignoring the grayed frames underpede, picking up Flame of Justice and removing the wire. The blade had not been well cared for since the death of its bearer; grime was building up in the glyphs engraved the length of the blade and around the hilt jewel. Scuffs and scrapes marred the shining metal, making it look dull and battered. Carefully setting Flame of Justice on his own back, against Sentry of Balance, Axe collected Stiletto's short swords, keeping a wary optic on the surviving gang lieutenant, who was too stunned by what happened to his leader to do much more than stare.

Dancer in the Sun was set in its brackets on Demeter's back, her frame still crackling with soft blue-green spark energy. She managed not to look as weak as her companions knew she must be as she leveled dark brown optics at the last gang leader. "That is what happens when you challenge a Knight of Light," she pointed at the devastation around them. "You may defeat one. Those who follow will not be so easy to kill."

"And we will not stop until our fallen comrades are avenged," Dai Atlas rumbled. He leveled a glare at the surviving lieutenant, a look that had made miscreant soldiers tremble in their plating. "You do _not_ wish to encounter us again," he promised.

"We have what we came to retrieve. Let's get out of here," Axe said more quietly to Demeter as he knelt and offered a hand for her to climb onto. She nodded and accepted the offer without hesitation, only just managing to keep her frame from trembling from the drain Dancer in the Sun had inflicted on her.

The Lieutenant mumbled something as the giants turned away and powered up to lift off, headed back to Titanium's apartment and a much needed shower and recharge. The flight back to the Citadel could wait until then.


	23. Freedom in the Stars

**Kneeling to the Sword 23: Freedom in the Stars**  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ =================== ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Titanus stared at the scene before him, too stunned to fully grasp what he was looking at. Fire and destruction, deactivated mecha, those were things he knew, at least from distances like this. The scale of it, that it was in the very core of Iacon, the Senate buildings and Palace of the Prime, was more than his processor could cope with so quickly. The teleporter's armor rattled as his frame trembled, wings pulled tight to his back. This was bad, worse than anything else that had been happening. The situation was exploding out of control. This was the first major step toward utter chaos.

The sound of a chunk of debris falling startled Titanus out of his state of shock. The white and gray mech jumped, calculations flooding through his processor. Coordinates had barely locked when he jumped, teleporting as soon as his pedes cleared the ground, heading for the one place that the chaos had yet to reach. His apartment in the Citadel's civilian quarter faded into view with relief, barely a moment before the purple-blue flash of light announced his daughter's arrival.

"Carrier!" she cried out in relief and rushed to hug him, her entire frame shaking and field a torrent of terror-panic.

"Star!" The much bigger mech scooped her up, holding her close. Considering how volatile the situation had become, he had been worried about her, and was very glad to see her safe. "I'm so glad you're safe," he murmured, resting his cheek against her helm.

"They blew up the amphitheater I was performing in," she keened, shaking terribly. "I didn't even have time to think about grabbing Sirenis! The audience, band, staff ... everyone's probably deactivated!"

"Sentinel Prime is dead, too," Titanus told her, rubbing her back and wings. "Everything's falling apart. Dai Atlas was right... There's a war coming. The opening shots have just been fired."

"What do we do now?" she sobbed. "We can't go back out there."

"I have to tell Vanguard and the Masters what's happened. They have to know. Once the war breaks out full-force, not even the Citadel's isolation will save the Knights. But I'm not going back out there unless I absolutely have to. My clients can go retrieve their own shipments." The big mech's jaw set, and he held her as close as he safely could.

She nodded against his chest as they felt White Stripe rub against them. "You tell them, or should we? I can cuddle White Stripe..."

"I can tell them. It might take a while, though. Stay here with Stripe, and I'll be back as soon as I can. Okay?" He nuzzled his sparkling lightly.

She nodded and reluctantly let him go only to scoop up her pet.

Titanus ran his hand over his daughter's helm once more, then tapped into the Citadel's computer system to find out where Vanguard was, or where the greatest concentration of Knights had gathered only to find they were the same place. Once he had the location, he teleported ... and promptly began to wonder what he'd popped into when his optics focused on a sea of drawn swords and equipment that was noticeable in that it was turned off but still warm.

"Titanus!" Dai Atlas rumbled as the first to recognize the visitor, causing most of the others to begin to settle. "You really should not appear in restricted areas."

"I wouldn't have popped into a restricted space if what I had to tell you wasn't urgent," the teleporter replied, his armor ruffling. He shifted his weight from one pede to the other. "That I didn't wait until you were out of the restricted area should be a hint as to the importance of what I have to say."

"Then speak your news," Vanguard said, his tone even and mood level and he stepped forward.

"Sentinel Prime is deactivated," Titanus announced. "Assassinated. The Palace of the Prime and the Senate buildings are just piles of rubble now. The whole core of Iacon is burning. And it's not just Iacon. Starspark was nearly extinguished when the amphitheater where she was performing in Yuss was blown up."

Shivers of shock rippled through the room.

"And thus passes another one," Axe murmured.

"Yes," Dai Atlas vented heavily.

"Do you know anything else we should hear?" Vanguard asked, his wings quivering in stress.

"Cybertron is on the brink of war. The sparks have been struck, and the situation is a single wire away from exploding. It's not safe for any residents of the Citadel to leave for any reason. If there are any Knights out there, they should be called back immediately. Star and I will be staying here... I won't risk her out there, not with the situation so volatile." Titanus' armor ruffled and settled, wings flaring and folding again.

"Would you be willing to rescue a Knight that calls for help to get back?" Dai Atlas asked, earning a sharp look from Vanguard and more than a few startled looks from elsewhere in the room.

"Give me their exact coordinates, and that I can do." Titanus nodded.

Dai Atlas nodded. "Thank you."

The teleporter inclined his helm. "I'll be in my apartment if you need me... Star was very badly shaken by the explosion. She barely got out; the band and the audience weren't as fortunate." Nodding to the assembled Knights, he vanished again.

::And Tai ... next time, comm before you jump. Or just comm,:: Dai Atlas' tone was more amused than reprimanding. "Well now, that was interesting," he turned his attention to Vanguard and the other Knights as the command room lit up with information and displays once more.

::Will do,:: Titanus replied, sounding sheepish. ::Sorry about that.::

Axe shifted his pedes slightly. "The war is beginning, then..."

"Yes," Vanguard vented heavily. "What an opening salvo."

"With the Prime and much of the Senate deactivated, it is possible that it will also be over soon," Talon spoke up, motioning to the monitors that only a few centuries ago would have only displayed information from within the Citadel's nominally claimed section of badlands. "This leader may well take over now ... or the new Prime will enter negotiations."

"Possible," Dai Atlas inclined his helm, though there was no missing how little faith he had in such an outcome. "We can hope for that as we move forward on the assumption that it will not end here."

"We can't count on being left alone if the whole planet does become involved in civil war," Tornado commented from the upper tier, leaning over the railing to look down at Vanguard and Dai Atlas. "We may be forced to defend the Citadel against larger forces than have ever been seen in this area."

"Or do what two Sovereigns before me have done, and move to a safer location," Vanguard spoke quietly, evenly, as if he was suggesting a simple relocation and not the monumental risk he really was speaking of. A risk that only the others in the Circle of Masters had heard of before now.

Multiple pairs of optics fixed on the Sovereign, monitors and consoles momentarily forgotten.

"Where would we go?" Lightstrike asked from his position. "If this war will be as bad as we fear, there will be no place on Cybertron that will be safe."

"No, if this Citadel is no longer safe, no where in the empire will be, nor any territory that heard of Nova Prime," Vanguard inclined his helm.

"It will be a very long journey, and it should not be ours alone," Dai Atlas spoke up. "All who are willing to commit such an act for peace should join us to provide a suitable population and skill base to rebuild our race."

"You're suggesting leaving the planet, leaving Cybertronian space entirely." The big white Master Knight stared at Vanguard. "How would we do that, exactly? We have no ships."

"We would need to get the word out, covertly so as to not attract the attention of the warring groups," Axe pointed out. "And those who come with us would have to be ready for a difficult existence until we get settled." He looked at his mate, a memory file of Titanium telling them about black market slavers and raiders preying on Cybertronians outside the empire's space rising in his processor.

Dai Atlas replied with his own research, that there was a direction that patrols hadn't run into _anything_. The habitable planets were few, far between and at best hostile environments, but they existed.

"Yes," Vanguard nodded. "Thanks to Dai Atlas and Tradewinds, we have the ships and financing to do this. We have contacts across Cybertron that know who to speak with and how."

"And we have a screening process to ensure that those who come can carry their weight and will not create strife once we launch," Dai Atlas added.

The other Knights glanced at each other, some of them shifting uneasily. After a few kliks, all optics turned back to Vanguard. "When and how do we begin this venture? It will not be easy due to the scale that this... this _exodus_... is likely to become."

"It will not be," Vanguard inclined his helm. "It is also something that calls on us to look to practicality rather than tradition. Two among us have experience with such large scale operations."

All optics shifted to Dai Atlas and Axe.

"Yes," Vanguard agreed. "Though I am still Sovereign, Dai Atlas is in charge until we are settled on a new world. He knows how to do so."

"We will do our best," Axe replied. He had almost as much experience at this as his mate did.

Lightstrike's wings twitched, then the white Knight nodded. "At least we will have someone experienced guiding us, since none of the rest of us knows a thing about operations on such a vast scale."

Other Knights murmured agreement.

"What of those of us who have contacts on the outside that might be of value?" Lightwing spoke up, glancing at his half brother across the room.

Dagger nodded. "A few of us do have kin that are willing and able to help without asking too many questions."

"Once arrangements are ready for the influx of those who choose to come with us, you may send word to your relatives," Axe told them. "We will need supplies, enough to last a great number of mecha for however long it will take to find a new home. Otherwise all but a skeleton crew will make the trip in deep stasis."

A handful of Knights around the room nodded, each mentally calculating what they could get from their relatives, and in some cases how many of those relatives could be convinced to come.

"How many are you looking to have come?" someone asked.

Dai Atlas turned his helm to the speaker. "We _need_ at least three thousand across the twelve ships we have commissioned to create a stable, self-sustainable city. I am hoping to get a hundred thousand to leave, so thirty thousand might arrive."

Stunned silence responded to those numbers. The scale was beyond anything any Knight was prepared to contemplate right away. Most had long forgotten what it meant to live anywhere with a population over a thousand.

Then it sank in that seven in ten were not expected to survive the journey.

"We will be looking for teachers, artists, scientists, scholars... Those with skills vital to sustaining our culture and history," Axe added. "Including singers and performers, since they have an important place in our culture as well."

"Just as important will be those skilled in construction and what is commonly considered the lowest functions in society; energon refining, accounting, inventory management and factory workers of _many_ kinds," Dai Atlas added. "Those that create what we need to survive every vorn."

There was a deep silence as the gathered Knights digested that. Their monitors and screens were utterly forgotten, all their attention on what they were hearing now. This was going to be a truly massive venture, unlike anything they had ever seen before. It made them even more glad that they would have experienced mecha organizing and directing everything.

"All of this will be necessary if we want to have any chance of building a fully independent, self-sustaining, stable city, and any hope at all for our race to survive the conflict that is coming." Axe's gaze swept the control room. No one challenged him. Not openly. There was doubt. There was fear. There was distress. There was a room full of mecha that would be meditating and undergoing bindings in the coming orns. But there was no open rebellion.

When it came right down to it, they _trusted_ their leadership.

"How ... long ... before the launch?" Someone asked in a small, unsteady voice.

"If all goes well, within sixty vorns," Dai Atlas responded. "Enough ships are ready now. The rest will be by then. We have supplies for the minimum needed. If it comes down to requiring escape, the full population of the Citadel could depart in the morning. It would be a last resort. We do not have the skills to rebuild the society we have here among us. There are few who know factory work, or how to build a factory to take raw material to what we use every orn. Fewer know what to look for on an organic world to sustain us in the long term. Axe and I can judge for defensibility and threat assessment. Wing and a few others could design a city. I know everyone is willing to put in hard labor. Yet we do not have so many skills to make it go smoothly."

"Just how much scouting _have_ you done for the population to come with us?" Kimark half-demanded, his processors incapable of coping with such a project.

"We have been compiling lists of the skills the city will need to survive and to thrive." Axe locked optics with Kimark. "Mecha with those skills, who are willing to come and to work hard in order to preserve our race will come with us."

Various mecha nodded. "What of those willing to come, willing to work as best they can, but do not have a 'useful' skill?" someone else asked. "Like Cocotte..."

"Will be included in the third tier of those coming," Dai Atlas explained. "The first tier are Knights, their dependants and those with skills we can not do without. The second tier are those with skills we need to build and maintain the city, or are important for maintaining our society. The third tier will be those willing to work hard, to fulfill what function is needed, but are not required for the first generation to survive."

There were more nods from around the control room. Mutters echoed across the room as the other Knights considered that.

"When will the rest of the Citadel's population be told about this?" another Knight asked, raising his hand.

"When everyone _here_," Dai Atlas motioned around the room, "has finished coming to terms with it. We must present a united voice in response to this. There is likely to be some backlash out of fear from the civilian population. The more in agreement we all are, the less the chance that their response will turn ugly."

"What about any who chose not to leave with us?" Someone asked uneasily.

"Will remain, under lockdown, until after we launch," Dai Atlas said firmly, his wings expressing his displeasure with the idea.

"They will have to stay here until we leave, otherwise they could attract attention of the kind we really do not want." Axe touched his mate's hand lightly. "We want to avoid drawing the attention of the warring factions for as long as possible, to give the ships the best chance of escape."

"And ever with that, you expect seventy percent to be lost before we land..."

"And in the first stages of settling the new world," Dai Atlas nodded. "Colonization in a hostile environment is not a low-risk endeavor. Though yes, the majority of the losses are expected to be within Cybertron's system."

"We will be leaving in the middle of a war. While we will be doing our best to remain under the radar, there is still a very high probability that we will attract unwelcome attention and lose ships to enemy fire," Axe pointed out.

"Are there any other questions or concerns?" Vanguard spoke up, looking around as he waited for any. Gradually the gathering settled, many shaking their helms. "Then you may all return to your duties, and make extra time to meditate on this."

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

Dai Atlas' comm pinged with an incoming call. Titanium was back on-planet, about a joor out of the Citadel. This time he was letting the Knights know he was coming rather than just dropping out of nowhere, as he'd gotten into the habit of doing. The older triple changer was flying low to keep under the radar, following the surface contours when Dai Atlas joined him over the plains.

::It's good to see you again,:: Dai Atlas said. ::What brought you back?:: He asked cautiously.

::Since everything's gone to the Pit in a handbasket, all the military forces have been called back. I'm avoiding getting caught up in the chaos for a bit longer. Besides, I wanted to see how you and your family were doing. And maybe find out if there's anything I can do to help keep the cyber-jackals at bay for a while longer,:: the older mech replied.

Dai Atlas huffed. ::We're well into executing an exodus. Anything that keeps both armies from paying attention to the Citadel's territory and why so many supplies and mecha are headed out this way would be a blessing. The real part I'm dreading are the losses we'll sustain between the surface and the edge of the system.::

Titanium sidled closer, his wingtip almost brushing Dai Atlas'. ::I'm pretty sure I can keep the faction calling themselves 'Autobots' otherwise occupied... and any 'Decepticon' who gets too curious won't survive long enough to report.::

::That would be _most_ welcome,:: Dai Atlas' field sang with relief. ::Are you inclined to join us?::

::I'm not ready to hang up my swords just yet. But one orn, I will decide enough is enough. And when that orn comes, Cybertron will likely never see me again.:: Armor plates ruffled along the length of the older mech's flight mode before they passed over the outer wall and transformed to land on the balcony of Dai Atlas' apartment.

"When that orn comes, follow your bond with Sheerwing," Dai Atlas offered. "Not even we know where we are going yet."

"I will," the silver and purple triple changer agreed, taking a moment to pause and check for pouncers before setting down. Wing had once managed to tackle him right off the balcony. Titanium had managed to ignite his engines before actually hitting anything, but he'd made a point of checking first ever since.

That pause, and the memory of why, made Dai Atlas chuckle. "How long will you be staying?"

"I think I have a good two metacycles or so before the chaos of all the soldiers returning at once calms down enough for anyone to notice that I'm absent." Titanium settled onto the balcony, his engines spooling down to a faint idle. He barely made it two steps into the apartment before a white streak hit him square in the chestplate. "Oof!"

"One of these orns you'll manage to be braced for that," Axe laughed deeply as Titanium rocked back on his heel-plates.

"At least Wing's _small_," Dai Atlas grinned at his mentor. "Imagine that impact if he was one of us."

"No matter how much I try to brace, Wing has an uncanny knack for spotting that one instant when I'm not braced," Titanium retorted, exchanging nuzzles with the happily squirming white jet. "And if Wing was any bigger, I'd have an interesting dent in my chest armor and the wall would have a perfect imprint of my back plating."

"It's good he never taught Sheerwing that trick then," Axe snickered.

"Where is Sheerwing?" Titanium glanced around.

"In Kaleidoscope's clutches," Wing trilled. "Seems his lover isn't done with him yet."

The silver and purple triple changer chuckled. "They make an interesting pair." He walked farther into the apartment, a second white shape darting forward to jump on him. "And hello to you, too, Star."

"He's good for my biggest brother," she grinned, hugging Titanium next to Wing.

"He is," Axe added with a knowing gleam in his optics. "Sheerwing does well as a sub."

"I'm glad to see everyone's safely here in the Citadel." Titanium looked from Wing to Star. "I'm assuming that Titanus is here as well."

Star nodded as the big mech settled onto the couch. "He moved back here right after the first attack in Iacon, and hasn't been back out except to retrieve Knights who couldn't make it back to the Citadel on their own."

"The best use of his abilities." A large hand ran lightly down Star's back, then Titanium turned his attention back to Dai Atlas. "How hard was it to convince the other Knights that leaving the planet was the only option?"

"Less difficult than I anticipated," Dai Atlas admitted as they all settled in the living room. "It seems they are as tuned into obeying rank as military, only because they _trust_ their leaders rather than fear of reprisal."

"Always a good thing." The older mech nodded.

"Are you coming, too?" Wing wanted to know.

"Not yet, Wing. I'm not ready to retire yet. But when I do, I'll find you, that I promise." Titanium rubbed Wing's red crest, getting a purr from the small mech.

"But how?" Starspark wanted to know. "We don't even know where we're going." She looked over at Dai Atlas in case he did know and just wasn't telling.

"I'm Sheerwing's sire. I can follow the creator bond I have with him and find him wherever he is," Titanium explained. "Since Sheer will be with you, wherever you end up settling, when I find him, I'll find all of you, too."

She nodded her understanding, excitement flaring in her field once more.

"And he has a couple metacycles to enjoy our company in the meantime," Dai Atlas added with a smile for the two normal sized mecha that would always look like sparklings to their family. "Plenty of time for new stories."

Both of the small white mecha chirred enthusiastically at that.

"I look forward to hearing your stories; you always have the most interesting ones," Wing trilled. He reluctantly peeled himself away from Titanium's frame. "I'm meeting Tradewinds for dinner... See you later?"

"I'll be here." Titanium leaned in for a quick, affectionate nuzzle, watching the young jet bounce away. "That attachment has lasted longer than most," he commented when Wing was gone.

"Yes, and very serious too," Axe nodded, his tone betraying that all was not going well with it lately.

Dai Atlas huffed. "Too serious. The mech's refusing to leave Cybertron."

"Did he say why?" Titanium frowned slightly. "If he's that attached to Wing, I would have thought Tradewinds would follow him anywhere."

"Says he's no use outside the empire," Dai Atlas shrugged.

"He's afraid," Axe added quietly. "His skills and gift are both intrinsically linked to the economy and processor-set that is Cybertron. Not even the empire, but _this_ world. I believe he's more afraid of being unable to support himself than he is of losing Wing _or_ the war."

"He does understand that a war like the one that's about to explode is going to bring the economy crashing down, right? The longer the war lasts, the worse things are going to get. He might end up unable to support himself anyway," the older mech pointed out, then sighed. "This won't end well, for either of them."

"No, it won't," Dai Atlas growled. "He understands as well as any mechling does. He's more afraid of the unknown than what he can see coming."

"And that's the hardest type of fear to get around." Titanium sighed and shook his helm. "You're going to have Wing clinging to you for quite a while after you leave Cybertron. And if the war really explodes, Tradewinds might not survive it."

Starspark shifted on his lap, yawning hugely. She uncurled, sliding off onto the floor. "I think I'm going to go get some recharge... But I will be back when you start sharing your stories!" She grinned brightly at the ancient triple changer, then disappeared.

"Even if he does, he won't come out of it in nearly the same condition he's in now," Dai Atlas grunted, his optics settling on his mentor as he shifted uneasily. "There's a real chance you won't make it either..."

"I'm harder to get rid of than rust rash, and I have no intention of getting killed anytime soon. Like a bad credit, I just keep coming back." Titanium got to his pedes, walking over to lightly touch his forehelm to Dai Atlas'. "I'll be careful, and I will find you when I'm done with the fighting. I promise you that."

A large white hand came up and slid along Titanium's neck to draw him down for a kiss. Sensual, full of need and desire, and very much like that first night before Dai Atlas had first gone into battle. Needing to connect, to claim a bit of reassurance that didn't involve words or thinking. In the back of his processor Titanium was aware that Axe had excused himself and was headed for the balcony.

Titanium returned the kiss, his hands coming up to lightly stroke over Dai Atlas' plating, skimming along the smooth plane of one wing. He understood what his former student needed and was willing to give it, his field reaching out to meld with the blue mech's. The elder's engines purred, his plating vibrating against Dai Atlas'.

The mouth against his opened as Dai Atlas stood and embraced him more fully. The blue mech's field returned the embrace, meshing fully to wrap each mech in the extended essence of the other as hands slid along plating, eager in the mutual understanding.

The older mech's mouth descended to Dai Atlas' neck, his glossa flicking along the cables and tubes. Titanium purred, his lips vibrating against the sensitive cables, sucking lightly on an energon line. His fingers dipped into an armor seam, trailing lightly along the wiring.

"Mentor..." a soft sound of pleasure escaped Dai Atlas with a shiver along his entire frame. His own fingers slid up Titanium's back to dig into wing joins as he pulled his mentor towards the berthroom. His field flared hot and bright with need, rich with the trust so very few had ever earned.

Titanium followed willingly, his wings leaning into the touch, stretching out to open up the seams and give his former student more access, a soft purring moan escaping. One hand slid up Dai Atlas' back to slip under a wing, wiggling into the complex machinery, the pad of one fingertip brushing against a sensor node. "Dai." The blue mech's designation rolled off the elder's glossa, his tone warm as his former charge slid backwards to lie on the berth and pull Titanium down on top of him.

Their kiss grew more heated as Dai Atlas unlocked his chest plates, the sound as distinctive as it was smooth.

The purple and silver mech's wings fluttered slightly, the older mech working his way down Dai Atlas' throat to nip and lick along his chest seams. Brilliant red optics lifted to meet Dai Atlas' deep red gaze. Soft clicks announced the unlocking of Titanium's own chest armor, his cockpit sliding out of the way as the plates parted slightly. The white light of his spark could be glimpsed through the opening seam before it mingled with the deep red of Dai Atlas'.

"I will miss you," Dai Atlas managed to get the words out before his entire frame arched with a cry that was as much pain as pleasure with the entwining of the first leaders from their sparks.

"And I will miss you," Titanium responded unsteadily, his chest armor parting, plates sliding over and under each other. Red and white leaders merged into brilliant red and pink threads, more threads reaching out, twining around each other. The silver and purple mech echoed his former charge's cry, optics flaring, wings hiking up as far as they could go.

The _pain_ wasn't something he was prepared for, not in a merge like this.

~Spark was damaged,~ Dai Atlas gasped across the growing connection as he sought to deepen it. ~Didn't think this would hurt so much.~

Purple-and-gold-streaked wings twitched. ~I heard about your miscarriage... I grieve for your loss.~ Titanium's frame trembled slightly as he fought to control himself, letting Dai Atlas set the pace, not wanting to cause his former student, the mech he considered his family, more pain.

The response was wordless but intense. Gratitude for the words and truth behind them. Apology for causing his mentor pain. Thanks for not pulling back. Lingering grief that one sparkling would be the only one he would every carry, and quite likely the pair of them the only ones he would ever create. Thanks that the reproductive protocols had been silenced by it. Fear twined around grief that he was losing his mentor, the only _thing_ in his entire existence that was stable. Primes came and went. Regulations changed. Even his bonded mates were transitory compared to Titanium.

~I'll find you... I'll come back, and when I do, I'll be there to stay,~ Titanium murmured. ~Primus himself couldn't stop me.~ Diamond-hard determination that he _would_ return to Dai Atlas in the future flowed through the connection. The elder mech's field wrapped around Dai Atlas', radiating the reassurance Dai Atlas so desperately needed in that moment. They both felt the trust Dai Atlas had in his mentor silence the swirling fears. If Titanium said something with such conviction, it would happen. There was no room in Dai Atlas' processor or spark for anything else.

When that tension unspooled the merge sank deeper, the boundaries of thought and programming falling away into a union that Dai Atlas treasured as deeply as he did anything in his existence. His bonded mate balanced him, and he loved each of them deeply and honestly, but it was _this_ mech who had defined him and taught him what it meant to care about another, how to lead, how to be a mentor and care for his charges.

Titanium lowered his helm, his lips meeting Dai Atlas' in a deep, thorough kiss. His love for the mech he had taught and guided and the pride he had in his former student flowed through their linked sparks.

Relief. Pride. Desire. Love. Trust. Everything Dai Atlas felt for his mentor wrapped up in a single glyph that meant so much more than it did for others.

#_Mentor_#

Softly Dai Atlas cried out as his spark was soothed in a place he hadn't even realized was in pain. Where his bond with Axe was, love, understanding and support flowed, relaxing the pain inside Dai Atlas even more.

In reply the red spark flooded his lovers, his loves, with all they'd done for him and his core-deep gratitude that they respected each other and didn't try to make him choose between them. In reply the red spark flooded his lovers, his loves, with all they'd done for him and his core-deep gratitude that they respected each other and didn't try to make him choose between them.

~Would never make you choose,~ the purple and silver mech whispered. ~Would never hurt you that way.~

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

The Citadel was caught completely by surprise. Following the initial attacks on Iacon and other cities around Cybertron, the Knights had upgraded their sensor arrays, using the Citadel's funds and their various contacts to get the best equipment available. They had been counting on their isolation to keep them off the radar long enough to organize their exodus and get off the planet, and their new sensors to make sure they spotted any approaching enemies long before they got close enough to be any real threat.

The Decepticon special ops strike team managed to avoid the sensors entirely, remaining completely undetected right up until they launched their attack. The Knights were caught completely off guard. Civilians and dependents milled about uncertainly, not sure what to do. Knights darted about in a panic, scrambling to mobilize, to get their weapons and receive their orders. Vanguard was in the thick of things, trying to get the situation under control, even as another explosion at the main gates caused another panicked rush.

A spat of designations, smaller Knights and grounders, was transmitted along with sectors to check for saboteurs and explosives. A fully detailed assault and protection plan was transmitted to everyone else. It focused on the small army that could now be seen rushing to attack, but also paid attention to the hidden enemy that had blown up their gate.

"Knights, attack!" Dai Atlas roared as he, Axe and Titanium blasted overhead towards the enemy.

Hearing Dai Atlas and the call to battle, the Knights flooded out of the badly damaged gates, swords bared. Laser fire erupted as soon as the first of them came into view, mecha darting about madly to avoid being hit. The attackers clearly were expecting return fire; being charged with bladed weapons caught them by surprise for the barest instant. That was enough for the Knights to reach them.

Titanium watched the Knights from the corner of his optic, hissing a curse. Knight law and tradition had a strict no-killing law, and the Knights were still holding to it, fighting to incapacitate but not to kill.

"Don't leave them alive!" the purple and silver mech bellowed, startling the nearest mechs. "If they survive to report back they'll bring back an entire army with them!" Picking out an opponent, Titanium drove one swordblade straight through his enemy's shoulder, then brought the other sword around in a blinding arc, the blade cutting deep into the Decepticon's shoulder. One precise, merciless thrust through the spark finished the mech, and Titanium stepped over his carcass to challenge the next.

"Kill them all!" Dai Atlas backed his mentor's order as he joined the fight, side by side with his mate as they surrendered themselves to the familiar battle-lust that had served them both so well in their long lives. Mecha fell under sword, ax, and pede as the giants made a relentless path through the force that had yet to meet their like.

Some of the Knights balked at actually killing; they had been trained to incapacitate. But they could see the giants' reasoning and understood the logic. That didn't mean they had to like it, though.

Mentally, those three and a handful of others they knew could kill without grief, like Kimark and Demeter, were marked as the ones to commit the crime that was killing an incapacitated opponent when the time came.

Those few were prepared to pay the price to keep the Citadel and their comrades safe.

One Decepticon tried to draw a bead on Dai Atlas' helm, keeping out of the blue giant's reach. Spotting the bold 'Con, Titanium didn't even bother with using his sword. His attack was a stiff-fingered strike that punched straight through the Decepticon's abdominal plating. Knights stared as the ancient warrior proceeded to rip out his prey's entire fuel processing system, spraying energon everywhere. The Decepticon crumpled, and one final piledriver stomp to the helm put the mech out of his misery.

"Ouch," was Axe's only comment as he darted past, putting all his mass behind one powerful ax blow, splitting another mech cleanly in half from one shoulder to the opposite hip.

All around them Decepticons began to pull back, unprepared for the sheer _violence_ of the giants and the punishment their armor could take. Even more they were unprepared to face a force that was almost completely airframes. These Decepticons had not yet been hardened by war, few had been upgraded from their standard armor, and none had faced such a well-led, well-organized force before. As small as the base was, they hadn't expected more than a few dozen serious defenders. Faced with more than two hundred they tried to cut their losses and run.

"Don't let one escape!" Dai Atlas bellowed, taking to the air to tackle the escapee farthest from the front line.

"I got the strays!" Titanium was airborne in a thunder of engines, bringing down the first Decepticon with a burst of gunfire. The ancient mech was such a regular visitor to the Citadel that no one bothered to confiscate his other weapons, trusting him not to use them. His target went down trailing black smoke, the crash creating an impressive gash in the landscape. Ignoring his fallen enemy, Titanium went after the next enemy flier, leaving the slower grounders in favor of picking off the faster airframes.

Far to his right he picked up Dai Atlas doing much the same, though he used variations on flying tackles and crash techniques since he, like all Knights, lacked ranged weapons.

Axe was working with Kimark and several of the more violent Knights to take down the grounders as they tried to fall back, only to find that retreat wasn't going to be an option.

The last flying Decepticon went down, one wing thoroughly perforated.. The mech survived the crash, but having a giant mech come dropping out of the air and landing on him with both pedes ensured that he didn't live much longer. Titanium put a shot through his helm just to make sure, then pushed off again, making a detour on his way back to catch up with the groundframe that had gotten farthest away from the Citadel. Several precise slashes and stabs crippled the Decepticon and forced him back to root form. The mech quickly ended up flat on his back with a massive pede pinning him down and a sword at his throat.

"Now, you are going to tell me exactly why you pieces of slag-sucking gutter slime are out here," Titanium hissed, optics blazing a fiery red as he glared down at his prey.

About a breem later, the purple and silver mech was back in the air, returning to the Citadel and leaving behind the grayed form of his quarry, a neat stab right through the spark chamber having ended him.

Below him Knights were largely headed back, each one burdened with at least one dead frame. Only a handful of the former military and gladiators types out to check each fallen frame to ensure it was indeed deactivated before assigning someone to drag it inside. He approved of Dai Atlas taking command of that as well, watching as the Knights were introduced to another new, very unwelcome concept: recycling frames.

Descending, Titanium transformed and touched down next to his former student, his wing brushing against Dai Atlas' shoulder. "I got the fliers... Most of them didn't leave much behind to recycle. And I found out why the slaggers were out here in the first place."

"Good," he nodded to his mentor as he helped a mid-sized Knight situate one of the deactivated mechs to take inside. "What did they think they were going to encounter?"

"Apparently they thought this was an Autobot stronghold... An energon cache or a weapons store. Were expecting it to be lightly guarded. Easy pickings." Titanium shifted. "Mind if I borrow one of your assistants here to help retrieve the ones I brought down? My ground alt's a heavy cargo transport; I just need someone to help me load the carcasses."

"Hopefully this lack of a returning force will keep them away rather than draw them back," Dai Atlas said grimly even as he nodded. "Atl. Go with Titanium to pick up his kills."

The red and white Knight nodded and transformed to a fairly non descript, medium sized red ground vehicle, ready to go where the giant led.

Titanium nodded to Dai Atlas, then transformed to his ground alt, getting some odd looks from other Knights. They'd been expecting a tank or some other military vehicle, not a cargo transporter. Exhaust gusting from his stacks, Titanium headed out, Atl following.

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"Titanium, Dai Atlas, Axe," Vanguard's voice was low, his wings quivering with what was either fury or fear. The Circle of Masters plus one visitor had gathered in the Sovereign's office and were now three to four around a circle. "You _will_ explain yourselves."

Titanium's back straightened, level red optics meeting Vanguard's white. "Those were Decepticons... One of the two warring factions, the faction who arranged the attacks that killed Sentinel Prime and wiped out the Senate. If even one of them had survived and escaped, they would have come back in force, and the Citadel would have fallen. Killing them was the only way."

"I expect no different from you," the Sovereign softened slightly before his wings quivered and he locked onto Dai Atlas. "_You_ however, should know better."

"Do you remember why you put me in charge of the evacuation?" Dai Atlas asked in reply, his own frame stiff but not the least bit repentant. "Those were no raiders. That was part of an _army_ strong enough to challenge the _Empire_ in its capitol and _win_. You deal with raiders. The war is my domain. I understand how it works, and you know it."

"We know how war works, and we know what we must do to keep our people safe," Axe added, armor ruffling down his back. "This is not a time for half measures."

"The situation is different from anything the Citadel has faced before," Titanium pointed out. "There was no other choice, and there will be no other choice if they're dumb enough to try again."

"And what of the other army, these Autobots?" Marwir didn't even bother to hide her growl. "What of the ones who _did_ get away. We only caught one of the team that planted the bombs. All that killing, and what did it accomplish?"

"The point was to keep either army from finding the Citadel or even drawing their attention here." Titanium's wings flared out. "I would kill any mech from either faction to keep them from finding this place."

"But killing is not _our_ way," Vanguard took control back, only now appreciating just how many of the Circle of Masters were more warrior than diplomat. It was too late to try and shift the balance. Their path was set and a warrior would lead the Order into the next phase. "We understand it is your way. We do not fault you for killing when on the battlefield. We will ask you to refrain from encouraging Knights to do the same."

"He will not." Dai Atlas shivered, protective fury roiling up from spark and programming. Every single one of them heard it in his voice, that echo that could pierce one's very spark that was the core of his damage-dealing singing voice. "Those of us who can with a clear spark will do what must be done after the battle, and face what penance will come of it."

"All the family I have is here. I will do whatever I have to in order to protect them." The oldest mech's optics blazed a fiery red. "The times have changed. I know that killing is not your way, but if the Order is to survive you must adapt. At least until you're off Cybertron and out of the war's reach."

"Vanguard, leave the killing to those of us who can take it with a clear spark," Dai Atlas almost pleaded. "Six Knights I know can accept this duty and not break."

"You know what will happen when this is over," the former priest looked sick.

"If that is the price for the Order's survival, so be it," Dai Atlas said firmly.

Titanium had been around the Knights long enough to have a good idea of their traditions and penances. The big mech shifted ever so slightly. "War is not always black or white, Sovereign. Sometimes it's about finding the shade of gray you can live with. It's about doing what must be done in order to survive."

Dai Atlas reached out to place a hand on his mentor's shoulder. "That is why those few of us who know that in our sparks will do what Knights should not do. If any can take the penance and live, it will be those who can understand what war really is. Better us than inflicting our crimes on the entire order. The results of this orn will be bad enough already."

The older mech lifted his hand, resting it atop Dai Atlas'. "When I'm called back out, I will do whatever I can to keep the warring forces away from the Citadel. Or at least keep them down to groups a small number of Knights can handle." Red optics met red optics.

"Thank you," Vanguard inclined his helm while Dai Atlas and Axe answered with their fields.

"How long before they come back?" Marwir vented heavily, already dreading the affect on Wing when the final penance came due.

"There's no way to know," Axe answered. "It could be within orns, it might not be for metacycles or vorns."

"This bunch managed to get right past your scanners, so if they come back there's a chance you might not even see them coming," Titanium pointed out. "You'll have to be even more on guard."

"We'll begin to patrol the plains," Vanguard nodded. "Even if they wouldn't have spotted the team that snuck in, they will see an army on the move."

Titanium inclined his helm. "I wish you the best of luck in avoiding another conflict like this orn's."

"Thank you," Vanguard inclined his helm. "I hope the remainder of your stay is a pleasant one."

"Come," Dai Atlas guided his mate and mentor from the office. "The two of us have a binding to undergo."

"I hope so as well." Titanium nodded to the Sovereign, then followed Dai Atlas and Axe out. "I'll either be in my quarters or in the courtyard with the usual audience."

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Dinner was over, the family, including Titanus, was just getting up to move to the living room when Dai Atlas caught his mentor's mouth in a fierce kiss. The younger mechs chirred and watched with interest, Titanus scooping up his daughter. Wing grinned hugely, wings fluttering as he found himself a perch. Titanium returned the kiss just as fiercely, one hand lifting to Dai Atlas' heavy helm, stroking around the bases of his golden crests.

The white wings twitched, the ancient's frame stiffening slightly as his comm chirped for attention. His former charge, his lover, growled at the interruption and what he knew it meant, but he backed off slightly to allow Titanium to attend to the call without disruption.

::Hey boss, sorry about interrupting, but the Prime's getting fidgety. I don't think he can be put off any longer. You'll have to get to Iacon ASAP.::

The big triple changer muttered something rude, then sighed. ::It'll take me two, maybe three orns to get back... I'm pretty far out. Try and fend him off for that long, please.::

::That I can do. I can just say you're heading in from ... say Kaon? You still have a place there, don't you? This one's a grounder. He wouldn't think twice about three orns from Kaon.::

::Yes, I have a place in Kaon. And it's my home city, so I'd have reason to be there. Thank you.:: Titanium's wings drooped as he refocused, looking at Dai Atlas. "I couldn't avoid it forever ... I've been recalled to Iacon."

"I know," he murmured, drawing his mentor into an embrace and fierce kiss. "Can you leave in the morning, or must it be now?"

"I told them two to three orns to get back... I should be there in time even if I leave in the morning." Titanium leaned into the kiss.

"Good," Dai Atlas shivered, his field expressing just how he wanted to spend their last night together. Reluctantly he pulled away. "You should say your goodbyes to everyone else before I distract you too much."

"Agreed." Titanium ruffled his armor, turning to face the other mecha in the room. "I've just been recalled to Iacon to face the new Prime... I'll be leaving in the morning. I probably won't get the chance to drop in again before the exodus takes place, so it might be a very long time before I see any of you again."

Wing promptly launched himself at Titanium, latching on and clinging.

"If you ping me with coordinates, I can pick you up and drop you off," Starspark offered. "Even if it's not often, you could come now and then."

"Thanks, Star." The old triple changer reached over to stroke her helm lightly. "If I can, I will do so. But I might not get the chance. It depends on what happens between then and now." Titanium ran his palm over Wing's wings, nuzzling the little jet. "However long it takes, I'll find you, wherever you end up settling."

"Be careful," Wing trilled, his voice shaky. "Be ready to retire _soon_."

"I will be careful," the big purple and silver mech promised. "Cross my spark and hope to rust. Though my retirement might not be as soon as you'd prefer." Curling one arm around Wing, Titanium walked over to exchange hugs with the others, even Sheerwing, who put up a token protest but returned the gesture.

"It would only be soon enough if you were going to Iacon to hand in your fee," Sheerwing admitted, his grip on his sire tightening. "You'll be missed."

"And I'll miss you." Titanium pressed his forehelm to Sheerwing's, his optics dimming slightly. "I'll miss all of you, very much."

"Why aren't you ready to stop killing?" Starspark asked unsteadily.

"It's too difficult to explain... This is something that's not easy to put into words. I'm not ready to be a civilian yet. One orn, that will change, and that is when I will leave the battlefield behind forever." The old triple changer scooped the young femme from Titanus' arms, nuzzling her helm gently. Titanus watched for a moment, then stepped forward to wrap his arms around the older mech and the two small white mecha.

"It's not that simple," Dai Atlas spoke up. "It's like asking you why we aren't ready to stop being a Knight and enjoy the freedoms of the civilian world."

She simply nodded against Titanium's chest, her field full of distress. "Just remember, even if it's just a couple joors in the evening, I can bring you here and drop you off in your quarters, no one the wiser."

"I will remember." Titanium gave her one last nuzzle, then placed her gently on her pedes. Axe had to pry Wing away from the oldest of the group's chest armor, the white jet fluttering unhappily.

Titanium walked back over to Dai Atlas, leaning against his former student's shoulder. "I'm going to miss all of you," he murmured.

"You will be welcomed when you return," Dai Atlas murmured, wrapping his arms around his mentor and glancing at the others before nudging Titanium towards the berthroom.

"And probably glomped, too," the elder quipped as he obeyed the nudge. "Wing will probably latch onto me and not let go for an orn or two."

"And I'm the only one who will actually object," Dai Atlas chuckled, giving a teasing look at his eldest surviving creation before the door closed behind him and he twisted to press his mentor against the wall with his entire frame. Their mouths met in a kiss that was as intense and urgent as any they'd shared. Though never seeing each other again had long been a possibility, it had never been quite like this.

The older mech purred into the kiss, one hand lifting to catch the edge of a long white wing. Deft fingertips kneaded over one of the sensors while Titanium's other hand ran up Dai Atlas' back to stroke along the back of his neck, teasing lightly over the cables. In reply strong white hands ran up his sides as the kiss intensified. Knowing fingers found Titanium's wing joints, building the charge fast and hot as their frames scraped together.

Mixed deeply with the arousal was the need to connect, to experience his mentor in every way possible and hold onto that pleasure.

Long wings stretched out, opening the seams and allowing Dai Atlas' fingers to slip inside. The reinforced false glass of the elder mech's cockpit and ground-alt windscreens scraped lightly against the blue triple changer's chestplate. Shifting his weight, Titanium pressed one pede against Dai Atlas' lower leg, the engine in the elder's leg revving high, vibrating through both mechs. Titanium's field wrapped around and melded into his former charge's, laced with understanding of Dai Atlas' need and a matching arousal.

The kiss broke and Titanium's mouth moved to Dai Atlas' throat cables, drawing a shuddering moan from the blue mech. One of Dai Atlas' hands slid down his mentor's side to hook a leg and draw it up as his spike cover slid back. The silver and purple mech purred against Dai Atlas' throat cables, his glossa probing between them, flicking against the sensitive wiring. Valve cover sliding open, Titanium wrapped his leg around the blue mech's hip, his fingers slipping into a seam on Dai Atlas' back, the other hand caressing a wide wing.

Their moans mingled and melded as Dai Atlas slid inside his mentor, hilting himself in a single smooth motion. One hand remains inside the wing joint while the other guided Titanium's leg and hip with the knowledge of long intimacy with the larger mech.

Titanium's hands sought out the most sensitive places on Dai Atlas' frame. His engines revved high, vibrating through his frame, setting off sensors under blue armor. Tilting his helm, the older triple changer nipped delicately at the base of one of Dai Atlas' golden horns, purring in his former charge's audial.

"You'll always be remembered," Dai Atlas breathed as he pulled back and thrust deep, driving Titanium's hips against the wall and scraping his back lightly against the hard surface.

A deep moan rolled out of the elder mech's vocalizer. He murmured something in an ancient Cybertronian dialect, old long before even Dai Atlas had been created, and captured Dai Atlas' lips in a fierce kiss. Silver fingers ran over the leading edge of a wide wing, a sweeping stroke that ran over a line of sensors, sending surges of sensation through the blue triple changer's sensor net as Dai Atlas surrendered completely to his mentor.

A low whimper and flare of intense pride in Dai Atlas' field spoke of his understanding, even if neither could give a translation of the term. Closer than spark-kin, a bond deeper and more binding than a spark-bond in those early orns where bonding was intended for reproduction rather than an act of love.

His hips drove forward again, hard and deep, while his hands sought to bring even more pleasure to the mech that had been there for him when his bonded mates had not been.

Purple and silver armor flared out, allowing Dai Atlas' hands access to the underlying systems. Titanium shifted his hips slightly, altering the angle, pressing his frame against the blue triple changer's. His engines and turbines _roared_, the vibration rattling plating, setting off every sensor in both mechs' frames.

It was all Dai Atlas could take. With a hard thrust his frame stiffened, only allowing for minor thrusts as energy crackled and danced over his armor and thick, hot transfluid exploded into Titanium's valve.

Dai Atlas' overload set off Titanium's, the older mech's valve clamping down on Dai Atlas' spike. Charge raced through his circuits, sizzling across his armor. His engines revved even higher for a brief klik before slowly spooling back down to an idle as they both stilled, welcoming the post-overload hazy stillness as they held each other.

Gradually Dai Atlas came to himself enough to nuzzle his mentor, then kiss him in a slow, sloppy kiss.

"Berth?" he murmured, not yet moving.

Titanium hummed softly, returning the kiss with barely more coordination. "Once we're sure we can move without falling over," he replied, trailing his fingertips lightly up Dai Atlas' back to stroke the back of his neck. It was a spot that could drive Dai Atlas to pleasure, rage or willing surrender depending on who and how he was touched there, much like the base of his crown.

Slowly Dai Atlas nodded, more than willing to remain where he was, propped up against the wall and by his mentor's arms even as his mass held Titanium upright. His valve's complaining would get him to move in time, but for the moment he was willing to be still.

It took a couple of kliks for their legs to be willing to support them again. Titanium was the first to stir, nudging gently at Dai Atlas, slowly shifting off the blue mech's spike and lowering his leg. After making sure he had his balance back, he nipped lightly at Dai Atlas' jawline, nudging him toward the berth. His former charge willingly followed, all but falling onto the berth and pulling his mentor down on top of him. Strong blue and yellow legs spread. White thighs lifted to rub against Titanium's.

The deep rumble of Dai Atlas' voice was laced with power drawn on by his emotional state. The ancient term his mentor had called him was repeated, full of understanding, thanks and intense pride that he'd earned such a distinction.

Titanium settled over his former student, pressing his pelvic plating against Dai Atlas'. The older mech's purr was soft and warm as he leaned down to trail his lips along the blue triple changer's throat cables, murmuring another phrase in ancient Cybertronian into blue armor.

The words drew another shudder as Dai Atlas' valve cover slid open to expose platelets already glistening with lubricant. Dai Atlas' entire frame arched up with a moaning whine of pleasure that was pure emotion when his processor finally translated the term for him. It was much as he felt about his mentor, only from his mentor's side.

One hand slid into a seam along Dai Atlas' side as Titanium released his own spike, sliding it smoothly into the blue triple changer's valve in one swift motion. The elder mech shifted his hips, rubbing his spike against as many sensors as he could, bracing himself with one hand while the other wandered down to Dai Atlas' hip joint.

"Mentor," Dai Atlas cried out, a deep rumbling moan overlaying the emotion and loyalty-laden word-glyph from a time when mentor was for both mecha's existence and far more important than one's creators. It was from a time before Dai Atlas, but he had been raised with it. His valve tightened around the welcome intrusion, around the only mech who spiked him regularly and it never felt awkward with.

"My student," the older mech murmured in response, nuzzling the underside of Dai Atlas' jaw, fingers sliding deeper into the hip joint, feathering over the wiring and gyros. Titanium held still for a moment, then settled into a rhythm, shifting for the best angle.

Deep red optics slowly shuttered, the pleasure rippling through Dai Atlas' core. His hips, his frame, eagerly responded while his hands stroked wide upswept wings. What few words escaped him were of a dialect long dead, the first one he'd been loaded with when he'd been reformatted; his mentor's preferred one at the time.

Upswept wings pressed into Dai Atlas' hands, sleek plating flaring out. Old scars showed on the glimpses of protoform showing under flared armor. Titanium responded in the same dialect, leaning down to nibble at the edges of blue and white and black armor plates.

Their frames easily settled into the familiar pleasure, the slide, push and pull of this newest and messiest form of interfacing, yet also the most physical and simple in so many ways. Whispered words stroked the emotional pleasure as high as the physical, each side promising to remember and treasure the other until thinking, much less speaking, was too difficult.

Energy danced across their plating as moans overtook words as the rhythm began harder, their frames demanding the overload being promised.

Titanium picked up the pace, hips shifting so that each thrust rubbed over a different set of sensor nodes, his spike driving in deeper, as deep as it could go. His fingers brushed over the delicate inner mechanisms of Dai Atlas' hip joint as he nipped at the blue armor framing the blue mech's face, glossa flicking out to trace the black markings on Dai Atlas' cheeks.

A keening roar rumbled up from Dai Atlas' frame and his hips rolled up to take his mentor deeply before it closed and rippled around that beloved spike. His arms and legs wrapped around Titanium's frame before locking, entwining them together tightly in their helpless pleasure. The elder mech answered with a roar of his own, thrusting into Dai Atlas' valve once more, as deep as he could possibly go, before his frame locked up. Charge erupted across his plating, cascading through his sensor net. Transfluid burst from his spike, flooding into Dai Atlas' valve, hot and thick, spurting directly into the dense cluster of nodes.

They both trembled, caught in the overload and protocols that overrode their physical control, yet neither felt anything but the bliss of it in their trust of the other. Slowly, smoothly, they came down, feeling languid as the kisses came softly. Yet as physically drained as they both were, they could feel Dai Atlas' desire to merge one last time before they parted for a very, very long time.

Responding to that desire, Titanium's chest plates unlocked, cockpit sliding back to allow the plates to fold out of the way, releasing the white glow of his spark. The big mech shifted slightly, nuzzling at Dai Atlas' chestplates, brilliant red optics lifting to meet the blue mech's darker red gaze.

"Mentor," was all Dai Atlas could manage, the ancient glyph going far beyond what it meant even in Axe's time, much less to modern mecha. His chest plates unlocked, offering his deep red spark, still fundamentally the same color despite bonding three times to paler sparks. His hand came up to cup Titanium's face as they kissed, the tendrils of their sparks reaching out eagerly.

The older mech rubbed his cheek against Dai Atlas' hand, nuzzling into his palm as he returned the kiss. Shimmering white threads twined around deep red, merging into strands of every shade of light red and pink. The contact was almost electric, emotions and feelings flowing back and forth between them.

Deep in Dai Atlas' spark was the chaos of intense conflict, something he had managed to conceal until now. A deep desire to bond, to have a reason to go on after Axe was gone, to have and keep the only stable part of his existence in his spark no matter what. Yet in the same desire was the knowledge that it was a _terrible_ idea. That it was a desire born of fear and not love, but also that his mentor, no matter how important to him, was a spark that would unbalance his tenuous grip on sanity that was already stretched taunt by his gift.

The only thing that was not there was shame. Not for the fear, not for the desire, not even for the consequences if Titanium agreed.

Titanium nuzzled into Dai Atlas' palm, his optics dimming slightly. ~Your grasp on sanity is tenuous enough already; I have no desire to cause any more damage. I love you dearly, Dai, but my spark is not for you.~ Regret flowed along the connection.

~I know,~ honesty flowed back. ~I have always known, or you would have been my first bonded, as you were first in everything else.~

Affection swirled through their connected sparks. ~That knowledge doesn't make it cause you any less pain, my student, my love.~

~No,~ Dai Atlas admitted. ~No less pain, but far less than if we bonded.~ Affection, love and absolute trust swirled around Titanium's spark in deep red eddies. ~I never thought I would take a long separation from you so poorly.~

~Though I can't say I'm overly surprised... I've been a pillar of stability for you for nearly your entire existence. Even while you were hiding from Nova Prime I would have helped you any way I could, and lied to his face with a clear spark. But now, it's more than just politics that will separate us. Distance, and time, not knowing how the other fares or having any way to remain in contact, and on the eve of a catastrophic civil war.~ Understanding flickered and danced in shimmering white arcs around and over Dai Atlas' deep red life-force.

~All true,~ Dai Atlas sighed. He still bore a deep desire to bond, to keep his mentor close forever, but the _need_ was cooling in face of the mutually spoken truth. ~I will miss you dearly, my mentor,~ he murmured as he gave himself over to the pleasure and perfect closeness of the merge with one who knew him so well.

~And I will miss you,~ was the soft response. ~But I will find you. Primus as my witness, I will find you, wherever you finally settle.~

~I will be there to embrace you,~ Dai Atlas shuddered at the depth of the oath given and received from them both.

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::Incoming forces!:: a half panicked comm broadcast to every Knight from Lightwing, the tag glyphs warning that he was under attack and rather desperate to escape the Seekers trying to shoot him down.

"We're out of time!" Axe briefly met his mate's optics across the crowd of mecha swarming through the Citadel's courtyard. ::Help is on the way, Lightwing!::

Knights were gathering, preparing for battle. The front cluster were the half-dozen or so who could kill an enemy mecha with a clear spark, those who would finish off the fallen. While the civilians boarded and cargo was crammed into every last niche possible, these Knights would hold off the enemy for as long as they possibly could.

::How are you doing?:: Dai Atlas opened a comm line with Titanus and Starspark even as he picked up Kimark and launched himself to enter the battle.

Skywolf and Coldbolt, laden with the modern weapons as Dai Atlas and Axe were, darted forward, ahead of the main contingent of Knights to support Lightwing.

::The mecha I'm moving have _finally_ figured out that I can teleport with large groups as long as they're all in physical contact,:: Titanus replied. ::I've got a couple more loads of cargo to move to Altihex before I start hauling up to the moon.::

::Just about done cramming cargo into the Praxus ship,:: Starspark added. ::Will be back to the Citadel soon.::

Sureshock followed with the rest of the Knights, letting out a wild battle cry as he charged. The nearest Knights gave him wary glances as they followed. They faced a force far larger than any they'd met before. More organized and better armed as well. But the real difference was in the air. This army boasted more than a dozen trines of Seekers, all heavily armed for air-to-air combat. Something only a handful of Knights were capable of, even now.

With the front line in view, the grounder Knights were set down and the majority of the airframe Knights landed to attack. Only Dai Atlas, Axe, Skjöldur, Shogun, Sheerwing, Coldbolt, Skywolf and Sureshock remained airborne to deal with the Seekers and Decepticon airframes.

In one of the opening salvoes, both sides learned how Skjöldur had earned her designation. A full set of missiles were launched at the sleek orange-winged Praxian as he darted past the airborne line and toward the ground. Without so much as a quiver, the dusty rose colored femme, a giant among the Knights, transformed to root mode and twisted to put her wings in the way.

With the fire and smoke cleared, she barely had burnt paint.

~Impressive,~ Axe commented to his mate, having watched the big femme take that hit.

The lines collided with the audible crash of metal on metal, swords meeting armor. The lead Knights plowed in, aiming their blades at the most vulnerable points, where they could cause the most damage. Laser fire erupted all around them, searing paint and sending bolts of pain deep into circuitry.

~Very. She's well-designated,~ Dai Atlas replied as he unloaded a barrage of missiles on the back ranks of the Decepticons before focusing his full attention on the airborne threat.

The Citadel's Knights were mostly airframes with a small number of grounders among their ranks, but they were all trained in close combat with edged weapons. Against Seekers armed and trained for air-to-air combat, the Seekers had the advantage.

A white streak darted past, dumping two fairly fragile containers into the Decepticon ranks, then disappearing before Dai Atlas or Axe could bark at him. Wing had been left in charge of helping with the dependents, which he hadn't argued with, but that didn't stop him from getting in a few licks of his own. One of the containers contained several particularly large crystal vipers, the other several dozen large, angry cyber-scorpions.

The resulting chaos made Dai Atlas grin at his eldest creation's adaptation to the idea of non-sword combat. None of the Decepticons were small or young enough to be serious harmed by the creatures, but even the largest would be subjected to crippling pain if bitten or stung.

~He's got a creative tactical processor,~ Axe agreed before focusing on a trine of Seekers that made the mistake of assuming his size meant he was slow.

Shogun streaked past, transforming as he shot over a stray Seeker and using his swords to sever the enemy flier's wings. Shrieking in pain and alarm, the Seeker dropped, clawing at the air. Dropping back to the ground, the red Knight pulled out his energy naginata, a weapon he'd adopted a couple millennia before, and started tearing a swathe through the Decepticons.

Another Seeker howled and went down as Skywolf opened fire, shooting wings and fuselages and control flaps full of holes. The flying Knight whooped as his target impacted the ground, then barked in surprise as laser fire scored along his undercarriage. Coldbolt dealt with the offending enemy, his own armor scored with laser burns, energon seeping from a few of the wounds.

They all knew this was a battle that would cost Knights their sparks. Every last one of them was willing to sacrifice theirs so the exodus would be successful enough. Every last one also fought with everything they had not to be among those who would be lost.

Sureshock was the first to fall. His battle cries and exuberant whooping as he plowed through the attacking Decepticons were suddenly cut off with a cry of anguish, then went silent altogether. Shogun plowed through to retrieve the fallen Knight's Great Sword, subspacing it for the duration of the battle. One of the mid-sized fliers was shot out of the sky, managing to survive the crash but not the waves of enemy mecha she crashed into.

Roaring rage, Axe fixed his sights on the leader of the closest Seeker trine, blowing the mech out of the air before leveling everything within a hundred paces of her remains to retrieve her Great Sword. He didn't even realize that his kill had been one of only four Decepticons still in the air. The rest either shot down or having retreated.

The ground forces weren't nearly so willing to give up, though their far greater numbers giving better odds against the nearly two hundred Knights that had first appeared ... a number now down to less than fifty as the bulk had retreated to board their assigned ships.

The vibration of large ship engines made the ground underpede tremble. Still more Knights began to peel off, leaving less than a dozen still on the battlefield as the ships began to lift off, slowly rising toward open space.

Flashes of blue marked the arrival of Titanus after the fourth ship had launched and broken the gravity well. He was there to retrieve those who would be the last to leave, covering the launches by keeping the enemy forces occupied. Dai Atlas and Axe were the last to be retrieved and taken aboard their ships.

Axe settled from the disorientation of the jump on the bridge of his vessel, the _Pobegniti v nov Dom Deset_ and looked on the monitor showing the ships behind him and another showing the full fleet and the status of each ship as they bolted from Cybertron in all directions.

~All good?~ Dai Atlas asked him from the bridge of the very last ship to launch.

~So far so good,~ Axe replied, nodding his thanks to Titanus before the visibly exhausted teleporter collapsed. The black and gold Knight watched for a moment as the giant white and gray mech was taken away for some rest and a refueling, then turned his attention to the screens. ~Now, the hard part begins.~

Wing, on Dai Atlas' ship, glanced back once at the abandoned Citadel, seeing darts of movement as those mechs who had chosen not to come took off in all directions. White wings twitched, then the white jet returned his attention to his monitors and his duties until they were clear of danger from the warring factions.

"Open fire on _anything_ that attacks," Dai Atlas ordered, a reminder that at least this ship was still not following the ways of the Circle of Light. He, Axe and three of the others rather pointedly assigned non-Knights to the weapon stations for just that reason. All former military, all with experience in ending mecha's existences, but not bound by the laws and morals of the Knights.

"We've got incoming!" the mech at the sensor station announced. "Multiple contacts!"

Axe's hands tightened on the edges of his console as his optics took in what was coming their way. There was a massive firefight underway over Cybertron, larger ships and smaller single mecha shooting the scrap out of each other.

"All ships, scatter, and we'll meet up at the prearranged rendezvous coordinates!" the black mech barked. Then the ship shuddered as the first shots impacted, and the mecha at the weapons station, designated Crossfire, began returning fire.

"Primus to the Pit!" Axe snarled in a language old enough his crew only caught the intent. "What's wrong with that special transponder?"

The attacking mech was quickly blown to scrap, and Crossfire checked his screens carefully. "No other ships or mecha are moving to attack... That one probably just had a really itchy trigger finger."

"Looking good so far," Tornado reported from another ship. "The battle is mostly ignoring us."

"_Pobegniti v nov Dom Eden_ under attack," Vanguard's voice was steady, but the explosions and screams behind his voice told a different story. "Critical system damage."

Axe glanced at his monitors, noting the swarm of hostile contacts around Vanguard's ship, and swore vilely, using a few phrases in several different languages, as he realized that although the special transponder was working it was being completely ignored. A glance at another screen drew out another storm of cursing; both teleporters were unconscious and unable to try evacuating the critically damaged ship. "Vanguard!"

"We've taken a few hits, but no major damage," Sheerwing reported on another channel, a comment repeated by the others on this side of Cybertron.

From further out, the two ships that had been on the moons, reports came that they were all in the clear. The same with those on the far side of the planet.

"It seems Dai Atlas will lead longer than intended," the Sovereign of Light said calmly. "I only regret that so many Great Swords will never be borne again."

Metal creaked under Axe's grip as he stared at the display, watching helplessly as Vanguard's ship was shot to pieces by enemies who were completely ignoring the transponder signal. There was absolutely nothing he or any of the others could do, and the ships had had to be stripped of escape pods to make room for cargo and passengers. Everyone knew that if something went wrong there was little point to escape anyway. The only safety was far, far out of the system, and none of the ships had room, or time, for collecting survivors.

So it was quietly decided that there would be no effort to enable survivors.

A burst of cursing from Sheerwing's ship, words that could only have been picked up from his creators, spoke of a second ship soon to be lost.

"Sheerwing! What's going on?" Axe couldn't stop a spike of alarm from searing through the bond. His optics darted to the display, picking out the dot that was Sheerwing's ship.

"Under attack," Sheerwing hissed in pain that was echoed from Dai Atlas to Axe. "Transponder damaged. Both sides are attacking us. Engines going critical."

Axe ruthlessly clamped down on a keen, feeling the agony radiating from Dai Atlas at the prospect of losing his sparkling. From another channel, Wing's keen was audible as he reacted to the news.

The fireball, when Sheerwing's ship exploded, was visible on the viewscreen of the ship Axe commanded.

"_Sheerwing!_" the black Knight cried out, gripping the console so hard metal crumpled under his fingers.

On another ship Dai Atlas keened in pain at the shredding of yet another bond, but remained standing. As painful as it was, the emotional pain was worse than the spark pain. He'd learned to continue to fight after the loss of a mate-bond. He would continue after this.

"How many are free of danger?" he growled out.

"Six in the clear, two destroyed, one in imminent danger, three still in the danger zone," the report came back.

"Then we've already done far better than anticipated," Dai Atlas murmured.

Axe reached through the bond, wrapping his thoughts around his mate's, sharing grief. Wing continued to keen, pulling his wings tight to his back.

The one ship that was in imminent danger exploded, taking one of its attackers with it. Two more broke free of the danger zone, while the third began broadcasting distress signals.

"We're clear," Axe reported, checking his monitors. "Only minor damage."

"As are we," Dai Atlas reported dully.

The black mech ached to be able to hold his mate, but that would have to wait until the ships rendezvoused or one of the teleporters woke up. He wrapped love and grief around Dai Atlas' spark as best he could. "Let's get to the rendezvous. The Circle has serious business that needs to be attended to."

"Yes," Marwir agreed over the comm. "We will meet you there."

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The surviving ships traveled for several orns, closing in on the coordinates that had been chosen as a rendezvous point. There was fairly constant contact between the ships, exchanging status reports and locations. Wing spent every moment he wasn't on duty all but glued to Dai Atlas' armor, recharging on the big blue mech and only peeling himself away with great reluctance.

Finally, the chosen meeting site was in range, a sun-baked, barren chunk of rock smaller than one of Cybertron's moons. It would serve as a place for the surviving ships to gather, and for the Circle of Light to take care of the important business they had to deal with.

As the mission leader, it was Dai Atlas who stood before the Circle, the four others of the Circle of Masters in a loose semi-circle around him.

"I am sure everyone has heard of those who were lost," he began, his rumble deep and still quietly grieving. "The funerals will be held after we attend to business. Vanguard was deactivated when his ship was lost. The Circle requires a new Sovereign. Those on the floor are those in contention for the position."

Murmurs rippled through the remaining Knights. All of them were grieving for the lost of almost a hundred and twenty of their comrades, and for the mech who had led them for so long. Wing muffled a keen, leaning against Thorn, who had been on Axe's ship. The black Knight slid an arm around him and held him tightly.

Dai Atlas glanced at his fellow Masters. "Do any of you wish to speak before the vote?"

Axe nodded and his mate gave him the floor. "Though I am of the Circle of Masters, I do not wish to be Sovereign now. My place is by my mate's side, nothing more."

The other Knights nodded their acknowledgement, murmuring to each other. Their optics swept over the other Masters. Tornado shook his helm, indicating that he had nothing to say, then glanced at the others.

Aurora and Marwir exchanged a glance, then Marwir flicked her wings to indicate she had nothing to say. It was no secret that before the exodus was planned, they were expected to be the next Sovereign and SIC. Now ... no one was sure any more.

"Dai Atlas will remain in charge of the exodus regardless of who the new Sovereign is," Aurora told the gathering, one far smaller than it had been before.

The blue giant nodded and swept the Circle with deep red optics. "Then let the vote begin. Aurora."

A chorus of humming rose from the crowd, indicating that their votes went to Aurora. Murmurs flew back and forth as Knights exchanged soft opinions, tallying votes, keeping their attention on the group of Masters.

"Marwir."

Far fewer hummed their support of her, though still a reasonable showing, given she was expected to be the next SIC.

"Tornado."

The blue and slate flier had a decent amount of support. Inclining his helm with a slight smile, he settled back to wait on the results of the vote, clasping his hands together behind his back. Like Marwir, he had no chance to win against Aurora's count, which meant this was about to get _very_ interesting. A full third had not voted yet, which meant that unless a significant number abstained, there would be arguments and then a second vote between Dai Atlas and Axe against Aurora and Marwir.

"Dai Atlas."

The chorus of humming for Dai Atlas rivaled the chorus for Aurora, which surprised few. Tornado nodded slightly, as if he'd expected this outcome. The vote was getting interesting. As the one no longer involved, he now stepped forward to take over the moderator duties, such as they were.

"Master Aurora, present why you should be the next Sovereign to the Circle."

The femme nodded to him, then stepped forward to face the assembled Knights. "I have been the SIC of the Circle for a long time under Vanguard, and I have been training and preparing to take over leadership of the Order for longer than Dai Atlas has been a Knight of Light." Lifting her helm, she met the larger mech's optics. "The laws of the Order forbid the use of modern weapons, of guns and missiles, armaments which Dai Atlas _and_ his SIC still carry in defiance of our laws. He is not suited to take over as Sovereign of Light."

A ripple of whispers and flurry of comms responded to the accusation, accurate but everyone knew that Vanguard himself had given them permission.

"Master Dai Atlas, present why you should be the next Sovereign to the Circle." Tornado kept his opinions to himself. After all, he was heavily biased toward his creator, who'd be the next SIC under Aurora and everyone knew it.

"I have been a leader longer than the rest of the Circle of Masters combined. My SIC was created and trained to be a command officer, a leader in his own right. He has long been willing and able to call me on my faults," Dai Atlas rumbled. "Vanguard agreed to these weapons, and the killing my team has done. We have and will face the penances for our infractions, just as Vanguard did in agreeing to them. There is not a Knight here that does not owe their continued existence to both." He looked around, literally daring any of the gathering, particularly Aurora, to contradict him.

When none did, he continued. "I will lead the Order and the society beyond ours that has traveled with us to a new home safe from conflict. I have the experience in settling a new world and leading that few can match. I have and will continue to respect the experience of those who know more about a subject than I do."

More murmurs and whispers rippled through the crowd, more than a few mecha nodding in agreement. Wing chirred his support of his creator, one wing twitching. It took a klik for the murmuring to die down, all optics returning to the circle of Masters.

"Then for the second vote. Aurora," Tornado spoke up.

There were slightly fewer votes for the Seeker this time when you counted that she should have gotten Marwir's vote and at least some of Tornado's. A few Knights looked uncertain. Aurora frowned internally, tallying up the votes. Assuming everyone did vote, Dai Atlas would be confirmed if she did not challenge him.

"Dai Atlas," Tornado called for the votes, internally very curious at the change of votes and who, if any, would choose to abstain.

Voices rose, Wing being the first to cast his support to his creators.

Tornado nodded. "Dai Atlas has 172 to 149 for Aurora and 3 beyond the five in the Circle of Masters who abstain. The vote is close enough for a challenge, if any call for Master Aurora to do so."

There was some scattered muttering at that, but no one called for a challenge. Aurora glanced around the assemblage, flicking a wing in a tiny shrug, then looking at Tornado. "I see no need for a challenge."

The de facto moderator inclined both helm and wings to her before facing the gathering once more. "Then by majority rule of the full Circle of Light, Master Dai Atlas is now our Sovereign."

The blue giant inclined his helm and wings respectfully, still faintly surprised that the vote had gone his way.

Wing was bouncing on his pedes, fluttering and trilling. Only a quick snatch by the nearest Knight, Firefly, kept him from pouncing.

"Pounce on him later," the red and gray Praxian told Wing, grinning at the glare he got in response.

Axe sidled over, leaning his shoulder against Dai Atlas'. ~You made it, love.~

~Yes,~ he purred back. "Thank you for your confidence in me. It will not be misplaced," he promised.

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

Wing chirred and rustled, trying to remain calm and not squirm in his restraints too much as the shuttle descended onto a world dubbed Aelios. It was exciting and terrifying all at once. More than six thousand vorns spent exploring space, looking for an uninhabited world they could settle on. If this was it, seven would be the lucky number. If not ... maybe eight would be.

The planet appeared uninhabited; the sensors on the ships had been unable to find any signs of civilization. Basically a desert, Aelios circled a binary star, far enough from the twin stars to maintain an atmosphere and maintain a fairly steady temperature. Sensors had registered high concentrations of minerals in the sand and the rock below, more than enough to sustain a Cybertronian colony for a very, very long time. With two suns, there was plenty of solar energy with which to produce energon, good solar energon. There was a live magma core below too, though it was deep.

Around Wing the other members of the scouting party exchanged soft comments and comms. Some were grumbling about getting sand into their joints. Others just wanted off the ship, an open sky to race through. Anything was better than being cooped up.

Wing was lucky. He was small enough that he could fly, albeit in a limited fashion, in the larger rooms on his ship. It wasn't great flying, but it was far more than his creators got to enjoy.

He twitched again at the thud of the shuttle setting down.

All optics were on Axe when the big black and gold mech stood from the pilot's seat. "Everyone knows their duties. Everyone knows the rules. Never lose sight of your partner. Never lose comm contact with me. First sign of intelligent life and we bolt."

The shuttle's occupants nodded almost in unison, unfastening their restraints and getting to their pedes, stretching and shifting to work the kinks out. Once everyone was ready, they gathered around the shuttle's hatch, eager to get out of the cramped craft.

"If anyone gets into trouble and can't make it back to the shuttle on their own, comm in your coordinates and either Titanus or Starspark will come to retrieve you," another Knight added, ruffling his wings.

Another round of nods and the hatch slid open, sending a blast of hot, dry air into the shuttle to swirl around the score of mecha in it. Armor ruffled at the pleasant sensation.

"Move out," Axe barked with a strange lilt of humor.

The command was unnecessary. As soon as the opening was wide enough mecha were already streaming out, flaring armor and wings to the clear air, basking in the warmth of the suns on their plating. The air was pleasantly warm even by their standards, heat shimmering off the sands stretching as far as the optic could see.

"I'm certainly hoping there is no intelligent life here," Wing murmured to Axe, flaring his wings and pinions. "Those suns feel so good."

"Yes, and will provide nearly unlimited energon," the big black mech's armor shivered in pleasure. "Let's go going."

Wing chirped happily, taking off. He couldn't resist doing a few aerobatics just for the heck of it, purring at the feel of the hot air over his control surfaces, swirling around Axe as the larger mech took flight. He could feel the shifting in his creator as he opened more and more comm lines, becoming a communications hub of sorts for the nearly four hundred mecha, mostly Knights, exploring the world for both intelligent life and conditions to settle.

Wing stayed near Axe, orbiting the black and gold mech in a wide circle, occasionally darting down to get a better look at something. The small jet poked into ravines and shallow caves, never straying too far, always remaining well within Axe's sensor range. He occasionally picked up hints of organic life, but never much. Insects, small animals ... this was not an environment that was suited to the development of organic intelligence, which made the harsh sun and lack of watch all the more desirable to the mecha that thrived in such conditions.

That sand, though ... the sand would be the pit.

As the two mechs rounded a tall mountain, one of the caves Wing poked into caught his attention. This one went deeper into the rock, sloping down into the rock under the sand. Curious, Wing landed, peeking inside, bouncing sonar pings down the tunnel. The only hints of life were some cave-dwelling organic insects and lizards. ::This looks like it goes down pretty far... I wonder what's down there.::

::Go pick up Marwir and Demeter to explore it,:: Axe said, much of his processor power taken up by constant comm chatter. ::They're coming.::

The little white jet chirped in response, darting off to collect Marwir and Demeter, also collecting a couple of lanterns, to make it easier to see in the dark caves. He walked next to his Daoshi, both with optics bright and sensors on full while Demeter smoothly trotted forward on all fours when they entered the cave.

::This one is _huge_,:: she commed them, excited and curious with that distinctive edge of one who loved their function and was doing it well.

Wing turned on one of the lanterns, wanting a better look at the cave. The tunnel descended deep under the mountain, finally opening onto a wide ledge above a vast cavern, so wide they couldn't see the far side. Easing forward, Wing looked over the edge, spotting the floor of the cavern far below. His audial fins twitched, hearing the sound of moving water, an underground river.

::Demeter, stay up here while we do a fly-by circuit,:: Marwir instructed before launching herself off the edge with a motion to Wing to go the opposite direction. ::Let's see how much water, and just how big this place is. It might be a good city-place.::

Chirring in acknowledgement, Wing leaped into the air, flying across the cavern, rising toward the ceiling and then descending, measuring the vertical distance. The cavern was vast enough that it actually took a breem to reach the far side, and there he found the source of the water sounds, a powerful underground river cutting through the stone wall. ::I found the water... It's a substantial river. And this cavern is _huge_.::

::It is,:: she agreed. ::Let's get a full scan of it. We'll need full stats of it for the presentation. Bring Demeter down if you pick up anything worth sniffing at.::

Wing chirped, the sound echoing through the vast space. Rising back to the ledge, he scooped Demeter up, carrying her with him as he began scanning, his sensors probing every inch of the cavern. A few times he did put Demeter down for a closer look at something, finding a few insects and some kind of softly glowing purple lichen growing on the spray-covered rocks around the river. Otherwise, the vast cavern was empty. A few other cave entrances led up toward the surface, others stretching off farther into the bedrock. Exploration teams would probably be kept busy for vorns mapping the caves.

::This is the best we've encountered yet,:: Demeter chirred in excitement. ::It's even big enough for most airframes not to go crazy.::

::The ceiling's high enough for even the high towers of a Cybertronian city, and with the mountain above us there's a very, very small chance of us ever being discovered,:: Wing added. ::As long as this planet really is as devoid of any intelligent life-forms, this is the perfect spot.::

::Agreed,:: Marwir rumbled with real excitement. ::Let us hope that all the other teams and scans come back as an empty planet.::

::Back to the surface with the prelim?:: Demeter asked.

::Back to the surface before Axe starts to think we've gotten lost down here.:: Wing rubbed behind Demeter's canine ears, heading back to the ledge where the tunnel they'd entered through was. Turning off and subspacing the lantern, he waited for Marwir to join them, then began walking back up the tunnel toward the surface.

::...ng! Wing! Report!:: his creator's near frantic transmission slammed through his awareness before he saw the light of the outside world.

"I think we were out of range," Marwir gave him a smirking look.

::I'm fine!:: Wing sent back. ::We were out of comm range. You're not going to believe what we found!:: Reaching the tunnel mouth, Wing stepped out into the desert sunlight, looking around for the black frame he knew would be nearby.

::Good,:: Axe began to calm down, his trembling frame settling. He hadn't broken from his duties circling high above, but it hadn't stopped the panic. ::You can show Dai Atlas in a few moments,:: he added a bit sheepishly.

Wing chirred softly. ::I didn't know we'd be out of comm range... Sorry for worrying you.:: He flipped his wings slightly, turning his attention skyward, toward where the ships orbited high above. Finding a convenient rock, the white jet settled onto it to await Dai Atlas' arrival. Marwir was the first to spot the incoming fireball, nearly white-hot and in a sharp descent.

"I think you're going to get glomped for a change," she snickered.

White armor flattened slightly. "Most likely." Wing shifted, letting go of Demeter so she could hop down onto the sand. "Being out of comm range really worried him. Dai's been more protective of me and of Star since we lost Sheerwing."

"I dare you to be surprised," Demeter snickered before she sobered at the reminder of all they had lost. "I'm glad we didn't lose your creators. We _need_ them for the transition."

"I'm not at all surprised." Wing's wings drooped as he thought of his lost brother, then he shook himself, looking skyward to watch the incoming fireball. "And yes, I'm glad, too. This venture would be much, much harder, even nearly impossible, without them."

The eerie silence that preceded Dai Atlas was testament to his speed of decent, as was the fiery rush of air that engulfed the three at his skidding landing. Giant arms reached out to grab Wing and hug him.

"I wouldn't let him come to harm," Marwir chided the giant. "I'm his Daoshi."

"He's my creation. Logic doesn't matter," Dai Atlas retorted to her smile as the powerful sonic boom caught up with them.

The little white jet nuzzled into friction-warmed armor as the shock wave passed them by, kicking up sand as it dissipated into the distance. He tucked his helm under Dai Atlas' chin. "I'm okay, Dai. Really. Not even a scratch." He shifted slightly, curling closer to his creator's broad chest. "I'm sorry for worrying you so badly."

"I'd rather it be for no cause than for another cold frame," he murmured. "Now, let's see what it is you found."

Wing trilled, leaning his cheek against Dai Atlas' shoulder as he sent the bigger mech a databurst containing all the measurements and details of the underground cavern he, Marwir, and Demeter had found. "It's incredible, Dai. This cavern is _enormous_, easily big enough for a city with room for airframes to fly about. And there's a river flowing into the cavern."

"Impressive," Dai Atlas rumbled, more than happy to have a Wing-barnacle for the walk inside. "So far no one has reported any signs of advanced life forms. There seem to be many large cavern systems. Yours is not the first reported. It's the largest so far, though."

The cave, thankfully, was easily large enough to accommodate Dai Atlas' massive frame, as long as he kept his wings folded down. Wing chirred in the bigger mech's arms, bringing his lantern back out of subspace to light the way back to the vast cavern.

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It had taken several decaorns to completely survey the planet, from the vast plains to the rare bodies of water on the surface, to the canyons and ravines and the extensive underground cave systems. During that time, the search and survey teams had been unable to find a single shred of evidence that the planet had ever supported or been visited by intelligent life. The only life-forms were simple organics; insects and small animals, and some hardy vegetation that thrived in the canyons.

Those orns of exploration, which spanned many of the planet's own day-night cycles, had also exposed the mecha to the varieties of weather the desert was capable of spawning. One team had brought back vids of funnel-shaped whirlwinds lazily making their way across the dunes, and another team had been forced to shelter in caves from a massive storm of wind and wind-driven sand.

Now, finally, all of the data had been collected, and it was time for the Circle and civilian leadership to decide if they were going to settle on this planet Aelios. It was a massive gathering. Nearly four hundred Knights and three hundred civilians, three percent of the entire fleet, with Dai Atlas in control of it all as he had been from the beginning. At the center of the gathering were four mecha that had rarely been at the center of anything.

Rockslide; geologist, environmental risk assessment and much more likely to be having a conversation with a mountain than his mate.  
Inward Spiral; geographer and general sociology geek.  
Crystal Spire; chief city planner and one of the more disliked mecha on board.  
Hardwing; medical. Don't ask.

Then there was Dai Atlas and Axe, there to translate the science-geek into modern Cybertronian for the rest of them.

There was some shuffling and settling as mecha took their seats, grumbling at each other. The Knights mostly settled into place without much fuss, while the civilians grumbled and took more time about it. Finally, after much grumbling and shuffling, the gathering began to fall silent, attention turning to the Knight leaders and the four mecha who would be presenting their findings.

"Everyone has been forwarded the complete reports these mecha have written on each of the potential settlement sites," Dai Atlas' deep voice rolled over the gathering, stilling and silencing everyone with the reminder that this meeting, their vote and opinions, were being taken in solely at the giant's discretion. "However, our chief advisors have agreed to give their summaries on the four best locations on Aelios."

"So this planet shows absolutely no signs of any sentient life?" one of the civilians wanted to know, standing up from his seat. Yes, it had been in the reports, but it wouldn't be the first time that something had been discovered later that meant they had to move on.

"No signs of even stage two intelligence," Hardwing grunted. "It also lacks the fundamental nutrient load to develop stage three intelligence within the next thirty six and a half million vorns."

"Yes, we are sure," Dai Atlas gave the simplified answer. "No traces of it nor hope of it."

A current of utter relief ran through the crowd, Knights and civilians but more audibly from the civilians. Finally, after so many thousands of vorns of wandering, they had found a planet that might suit all their various needs. "Then, by all means, let's hear what the big processors there have to say."

Inward Spiral stepped up. "While we have long assumed that we would build on the surface, the conditions on Aelios and what we have learned of the universe outside the empire both indicate we should fashion the city underground."

"There are multiple cavern systems large enough to safely contain a full city with room to expand for generations," Crystal Spire added. "While it is less than ideal, it is preferable to attempting to survive in the sand and electrical storms."

More muttering sprang up at that. "Underground? A city under the surface? But won't that be as bad as being confined to the ships for millennia on end?"

"It would be more defensible, to build underground," one of the older Knights pointed out, standing up to make sure he had everyone's attention. "And it will be much, much harder for any outside forces to find us."

"It would not be as bad," Inward Spiral insisted firmly. "When it's safe to be out, we could still venture outside."

Rockslide grunted in agreement. "The simple fact is that the surface is ill-suited to large life, even our kind. The sand..."

"If we built on the surface, we would have to either dome the city or have a full-time force field to protect us," Crystal Spire added. "That is all in our reports."

The muttering continued, rippling across the sea of mecha. Wings and flight panels shifted restlessly or uneasily. Many of the civilians who had come were airframes, as were the majority of the Knights.

Wing shifted in his seat, glancing over at his creators for a moment. "We have found caverns fully large enough to contain a city while still having plenty of space for airframes to fly about. 'Underground' in this case does not mean 'cramped'."

"Yes, yes, you do not understand," Crystal Spire broke into the conversation and waved a hologram into display. In the center of the room was a blue transparent outline of the favored cavern system, complete with a city of spires and towers in orange. A red dot near the base just outside the city demanded attention. "That is Dai Atlas, correct to scale." Another red form, this time blatantly that of a sentinel robot formed, half the height of tall of the tallest tower and a third the height of the cavern ceiling. "That is the famed Omega Supreme. As you can see, while there may not be blue skies, there is room to fly."

That got at least some of the muttering to die down as the assembled mecha took in the dimensions of the cavern. Wings settled as the fliers realized they would have room to spread their wings. Some of the younger fliers, noting the impressive stalactite formations on the cavern ceiling, were already plotting out obstacle courses and flight races around those obstacles.

"How do you propose we even begin this project?" one of the master builders who had come with the exodus asked. "There is a lot of material to be moved, and somehow we will have to get it all underground."

Rockslide glanced at Dai Atlas, who actually chuckled lightly. "For that, we will take a screen from the military manual on building underground. You remove the roof, build what you need to, and put the roof back on. It will also enable us to construct the city with the ability to rise to the surface if need be, or convert into a ship should we require a quick evacuation again."

For a moment, there was a long silence. "But... But if these readings are right, the chosen cavern system is under a _mountain_! How are we expected to be able to move a _mountain_?"

"Drilling, select placement of explosives and a tractor beam," Dai Atlas actually shrugged. "The energy to do so is abundant here."

"The details of that plan are in my report, section 16," Rockslide added.

The construction teams exchanged glances, flipping through the report to the correct section. "That is going to be a massive undertaking." The team leader eyed Dai Atlas. "Is that cavern site going to be the final site? I don't want to start planning this just to find out we're going to settle elsewhere."

"It is one of three sites under final consideration," Crystal Spire took center stage once more. "This is the most likely one. There are plans for the two alternate sites, or possibly the next two cities. Sections twenty and thirty respectively."

"Baring a surprise that the sensor sweeps did not discover, yes, we will build there," Dai Atlas said firmly.

The construction team leader nodded. "We'll start getting things ready. Once we know exactly where we're going to build, we'll work with the designers to get the city under construction."


	24. Fallen Wings

Note: We now go AU.

**Kneeling to the Sword 24: Fallen Wings**  
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Axe walked into the quarters he shared with his mate in the main residence tower of the Citadel of Light, venting heavily. He wasn't really looking forward to the conversation that he knew was coming once Dai Atlas returned, but he knew it couldn't be avoided.

The orn had started off pretty much like every other orn since Wing had brought back the white Decepticon. There had been the usual grumbling about Drift's presence in the hidden city, though it was considerably more muted than it had been several vorns before, when Wing had come tearing back into the city cavern, carrying a nearly slagged mech in his arms. By now, the grumbling was more habit than anything serious.

Things had changed drastically when Drift had burst into the meeting room, announcing that the slavers on the surface were about to move on New Crystal City. Wing had announced his intention to fight, much to the horror of both Dai Atlas and Axe. Both were terrified of losing their eldest creation.

~You're going to be there,~ Dai Atlas murmured as he pulled his mate onto their berth and captured his mouth. ~Shogun and Marwir too. But Drift ... another war...~

~Knowing that I will be there to watch Wing, along with other experienced Knights, doesn't take away any of the fear,~ Axe replied, pressing his frame against the larger blue mech's. ~I'm not looking forward to this any more than you are. But I don't see any other choice. The die have been cast.~

~And there is no way out. Either a score of Knights face them, or we admit the city is here,~ Dai Atlas' spark cried out for the choice. ~But how many do we lose? How many do we accept the deactivation of?~

~Many more would deactivate if the slavers find the city. The others know the risks. They are prepared for that sacrifice if necessary.~ A shiver ran through Axe's frame. ~I don't want to lose anyone. But getting through this with no losses would be next to impossible.~

~Maybe more Knights, field a true army.~

~It could help... Or it might create even more casualties,~ the black and gold Knight pointed out, releasing a heavy sigh. ~Too many things could go wrong.~

~There aren't many with battlefield experience,~ Dai Atlas admitted. ~But if you _need_ the backup, don't you dare not call for it. I can't lose you.~

~I know, love.~ Axe rested his helm against his mate's shoulder, dimming his optics. ~If it comes to that, I will call.~

~I have a bad feeling, love,~ he murmured. ~The Decepticon, the trap he told us about, only sending a fraction of our forces ... you _and_ Wing both there.~

~We will protect Wing,~ Axe stated firmly. ~He has some of the best and most experienced Knights watching out for him. As for Drift... If he tries anything funny, he will be dealt with.~ Steel laced the words.

~I rather hope he does,~ Dai Atlas growled. ~I do not like how fixated Wing is with him.~

The black and gold triple changer shifted slightly. ~I have to admit I hope he doesn't, because I do not want to see Wing in a state of sparkbreak again.~ He clearly remembered how torn up the white jet had been when Tradewinds had refused to come with them so many millennia ago.

~Better sparkbreak from battle deactivation than sparkbreak when that _creature_ turns on him,~ Dai Atlas actually snarled. ~He already admitted to betraying us, lying to us, _using_ us.~

Axe let out a low rumble. ~But he actually admitted to it, rather than keeping it to himself and arranging to lead us into the trap,~ he pointed out. ~He claims he is trying to help us.~ Doubt flickered under the words.

~For how long?~ Anger roiled under the thought. ~How long before more come because he sold us out. We already have to abandon Aelios before another army arrives. We can't afford to have a known traitor in our midst.~

~I just don't know, love.~ Black plating fluffed and resettled uneasily. ~All we can do is hope for the best, but plan for the worst.~

~That plan needs to involve that Decepticon _not_ making it out of the battle,~ Dai Atlas insisted. ~Better for him to end there than for Wing to learn his true nature.~

~I hate to play the Unmaker's advocate here, but what if Drift actually is sincere about wanting to help us?~ Blue optics lifted to meet deep red.

~He changed his processors blasted fast then,~ Dai Atlas pointed out darkly. ~How long was it between that message and when he burst into the hall? Less than two shifts, during which he had to sneak out, meet them and get back.~

~Anything is possible, my love. We won't know until the dust settles.~ Axe pressed close to his mate's frame, his plating tight to his frame to stop it from rattling as he trembled.

~I'd prefer it to settle without the variable going by Drift,~ he rumbled, holding his mate close. ~Things will get back to normal then.~

~As normal as they ever get,~ Axe quipped, leaning against warm blue armor.

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Wing walked through the corridors of the Citadel on autopilot, his processor elsewhere. He was thinking over everything that had happened that orn, and especially of the emergency meeting he had been brought into once the Circle learned what Drift had done. The white jet had a lot to chew on.

He never even noticed when he reached his quarters, coding open the door and walking inside. Only when strong black hands grabbed him and shoved him against the wall did his processor check back into reality. The heat of a frame against his, a field mixed equally of aggression, excitement and arousal crashed into his.

The white jet yipped in surprise, optics widening and refocusing. "Drift!" After a surprised moment, Wing relaxed slowly, his field reaching out to brush against the grounder's. A hard mouth pressed against his as hands moved down his frame, rough and demanding but oh so familiar.

"We're going to deactivate in the morning," Drift growled roughly, pressing his frame against his captor turned lover. "Enjoy tonight."

Wing opened his mouth into the rough kiss as it sank in that Drift was _kissing_ him, or at least trying to mimic the few passionate kisses Wing had given him in forgetful moments. Lifting his hands to stroke over Drift's armor, fingers flirting with the division between dark Decepticon armor and New Crystal City repairs. "Sounds good," he purred.

With that Drift slid his spike panel open, his spike pressurizing between them smoothly and all too quickly. Wing's valve cover all but popped open, the white jet shifting his weight and lifting one leg to curl around the grounder's hip. Licking lightly at Drift's lips, Wing slid his hands over white spaulders, tracing their lines and angles, fingers sliding into the seams.

A deep growling moan vibrated against Wing's throat as Drift lowered his helm slightly and drove his spike into his lover with a single thrust. To anyone else in the city, it would have been an act of violence and domination. To Wing, who'd known the intimacy Drift understood on his arrival, this had a very different feeling. A few edges had smoothed out, a bit of care for his berthmate, at attempt at something resembling a kiss and asking permission; Drift had come a very, very long way in Wing's opinion from the Decepticon that had first woken in Redline's medical bay.

The white jet moaned softly, nipping and nuzzling at Drift's helm, gliding his fingertips along armor seams, searching for the most sensitive spots. His valve rippled around the invading spike, shifting his hips so that the grounder's spike rubbed over another set of sensors. The jet's nacelles revved, vibrating against white plating. He knew very well that Drift wasn't one for drawn out interfacing. His goal was to overload, quickly, and no matter how many overloads were involved in the end or how often Wing tried to introduce him to the joys and pleasures of drawing it out it hadn't clicked yet.

Now Drift thought his functioning was over and he was out to steal a last bit of pleasure from existence before his frame became an empty shell. It made Wing's very spark ache that he couldn't tell his lover that neither of them were likely to deactivate. His creators had been very clear on that, however. If Drift thought this was a suicide mission, he was not to deter the idea.

They still didn't trust Drift, especially not Dai Atlas. Wing had seen the hatred in his creator's optics when he first saw Drift, and that hatred had only intensified the more they interacted.

A rolling wave of pleasure tore Wing's thoughts from the past and future when Drift's movements changed, became sharper as the overload built to its peak.

Wing clung to the grounder's heavier frame, his wings flaring out against the wall, trembling from base to tip. His helm fell back, baring his throat, gold optics dimming slightly as he shifted his hips to match Drift's, pressing into every thrust. Energy built between them, dancing along Wing's sensor net. As rough and _different_ as this was from every other lover he'd ever had, it was blissful in its honesty. Today even more than most as he knew Drift well enough to know the effort the grounder was putting into being a lover.

A last deep, hard thrust and Drift growled as his frame began to lock up. Hot transfluid spurted against the anterior sensor cluster in Wing's valve, sending intense jolts of pleasure crashing through the jet.

The jet clung to Drift, keening his overload as his valve tightened around the former Decepticon's spike. Charge darted over his plating, arcing between the tips if his audial fins and the points of his nacelle pinions. It felt _good_, oh so very good. Despite the roughness and general lack of skill, Wing's very spark sang every time he was with Drift, even when it wasn't intimate.

Drift was his _one_, he was sure of it. Never before had his spark begged him to open to another. It was only that Drift was far less prepared than Wing for such an intimacy that kept the white chest plates closed.

Huffing and panting, Drift's frame unlocked as the charge began to dissipate. As soon as he was free he began to thrust again, deep and strong, chasing another overload.

The jet nuzzled against Drift's rounded cheekplates, tilting his helm to lick along the tempting white spires of audial finials. One hand slid over Drift's shoulder to stroke along his neck cables, the other finding a seam between plates along the grounder's back. Red-trimmed white armor fluffed, trying to vent heat even as it began to build again. He was long lost in the cycles of pleasure and overload when he found himself horizontal and realized Drift had withdrawn. A bleary moment and it sank in that he was on top of his lover and Drift's legs were spread, sliding along the outside of his own as blue optics looked up at him, trusting.

A surprised chirr escaped Wing's vocalizer. He knew the grounder was not at all fond of being taken. Dipping his helm, he pressed kisses to Drift's neck and upper chest, smoothly sliding his own spike into the offered valve. Wings flaring and wiggling behind him, the jet settled into a steady, smooth rhythm. He knew not to expect much by way of participation; Drift didn't have any clue how to enjoy being taken. The subtle lessons Wing had managed to teach him about being a lover when being the spiker were still nowhere close to complete enough to have moved on to this yet.

Despite that and all of the grounder's history, Drift moaned softly as Wing's spike slid gently and firmly through the lightly slick passage, setting off sensor nodes that were unaccustomed to triggering pleasure.

Wing kept his rhythm smooth and steady, shifting his hips to rub his spike against as many sensor nodes as possible. The jet purred against his lover's neck cables, bracing himself with one hand while the other continued to explore the contours of Drift's armor. He could feel the shock, the confusion, that rippled through Drift's field as pleasure began to build from a place and act that had only meant pain and humiliation until now.

The white jet purred against him, slowly picking up the pace, keeping his movements smooth. He kissed Drift's cheek lightly, nacelles revving high, wings spread and fluttering. Even though he really preferred to be on the receiving end, the trust implicit in _Drift_ offering his valve made this exquisitely pleasurable far beyond the physical act.

Slowly Drift began to really respond to the pleasure and the cause, rocking his hips upward into the thrusts a bit awkwardly.

Wing chirred encouragement, shifting his hips to adjust the angle and rub his spike over another set of sensor nodes. His field reached out to wrap around Drift, bright and warm. The heat that replied was still untamed, as wild and volatile as the mech it belonged to, yet for Wing there was nothing to fear in the maelstrom that was Drift. Even if the grounder didn't understand what was between them, or even that spark resonance existed, Wing did. He knew his lover was his _one_, and such a lover could never turn on him. Resonance was no promise of a happy future, but it did stack the odds in favor of it.

Drift's next intake was a gasp of pleasure, a sound of shock as much as the building overload in his valve. Black hands gripped at Wing, blinding trying to find a way to ground Drift from what was coming.

The white Knight crooned softly, slowly increasing his pace again. The tip of his spike struck against the dense cluster of sensor nodes at the top of Drift's valve. Tilting his helm, Wing captured Drift's lips in a gentle, passionate kiss, golden optics meeting pale blue. This time, for the first time, Drift kissed back, or at least he gave it a very honest try. The grounder moaned into that kiss, his frame trembling with the charge washing through it.

Their fields thrust and mingled, sharing the pleasure, the surprise, the softness and Wing's joy in giving this moment to Drift on the eve of battle.

Wing could feel the charge building, beginning to flicker through his sensor net. The air shimmered with heat over his flared armor and air vents. Shifting and bracing one leg for better leverage, Wing purred and trilled into the kiss, his wings fluttering and wiggling, wanting to be touched.

It took Drift a moment to catch on, and his coordination wasn't nearly what it was when he was on top, but the grounder tried. Black hands pressed up and stroked, then squeezed as Drift gasped again into something close to a keen when a heavy burst of energy crashed through his systems.

"W-wing!" he groaned, giving himself over to the pleasure he wasn't expecting and didn't completely understand.

Slender wings pressed down into black hands, spreading out farther to present as much surface area for stroking as possible. Wing keened against Drift's neck, transfluid erupting from his spike, right into that dense sensor cluster. Charge leaped across his frame, jumping off onto Drift.

It was enough to cause Drift to roar as overload took him, energy charging through his systems, across his frame and leaping to Wing as their frames locked up, awareness loss to the bliss.

Slowly, sweetly, they began to relax, both well-spent and twitching faintly as they gasped for cooling air and to rebalance the loose energy ricocheting through their systems.

Wing slowly sank down on top of Drift, then slid sideways off the grounder's frame to lay curled up next to him. Warm golden optics regarded his lover, the white jet purring contentedly as they both sank into recharge, content with what could be their last evening together.

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Dai Atlas twitched in the control room, unhappy and stressed that he couldn't be in the battle. It was his place, his function, but as Sovereign he could not be out there when the illusion was that of a suicide mission. It was bad enough he'd allowed his creation and mate to go, but it seemed as if the traitor hadn't caught on to their relationships. Or he simply didn't see the problem with allowing mate and creation to extinguish.

The battle on the surface was utter chaos. The slavers had brought with them an army, both the smaller slavers themselves and their larger thugs. So far the Knights had not suffered any real losses and were taking a heavy toll on their opponents, but there wasn't a single Knight that didn't bear blaster burns in their finish or sluggishly-bleeding wounds in their plating.

Axe was in the thick of things, dealing with the larger opponents, his armor spattered with amber-colored organic fluids. Every so often a curse leaked through the bond as he tried to make his way back to the two white mechs he was keeping an optic on.

~You have wings,~ Dai Atlas snapped at him, annoyed that his mate was trying to remain on the ground like their enemy. A burst of horrified terror flashed across both sides of the bond in the same instant as they saw Wing go down, slammed to his back in the sand and a slaver bearing down on him even as he desperately tried to draw his Great Sword.

Dai Atlas' cry was one of denial as he watched his eldest surviving creation draw his Great Sword and cut his attacker in two, but did not stop the force of the spear that slammed into Wing's chest.

The white jet let out a cry of pain, collapsing back into the sand, briefly clawing at the spear in his chest. Golden optics darkened, his arm dropping to the ground, the edges of his armor showing an unhealthy edge of gray.

"_**WING!**_" Axe's shriek when he saw his creation go down caused the entire battle to pause momentarily, every mech and organic staring at him for a moment. Knights scrambled out of his way as Axe plowed forward, ax reaping a gory harvest through any slavers foolish enough to get in his way. From another direction a flicker of red caught his optic as Shogun came streaking in. A burgundy bolt, much smaller than the others, also converged on the scene, her pain quieter but no less deadly to the slavers that got too close to her path.

Across the field Knights rumbled and the battle turned far more vicious against their enemy. The Knights fought harder than ever, but they were few in number, and their enemies numbered in the hundreds. Another Knight bellowed in pain as a blaster bolt shattered his knee, staggering on one leg as he tried to fend off the sadistically-grinning slavers converging on him like cyber-wolves on a wounded robo-deer.

The entire planet rumble underfoot and underpede, causing slavers to pause, uncertain and Knights to pause in surprise. The Knights knew help was likely to come once they saw the size of the army, but not one was expecting to see the _city_ rise from the sand.

Axe hesitated for an instant, sending surprise through the bond, then resumed plowing his way through to where Wing had fallen. He was aware of Drift in the vicinity slashing at slavers with a level of violence that spoke to the military spark. At a glance, it also spoke of a spark enraged past sanity as the Decepticon picked a fight with a long-necked, dark plated Cybertronian that was most definitely not a Knight. Still, it was not his concern at the moment. Reaching his fallen creation was.

Already gray and painfully still when Axe reached him, there was no question about the jet's state. Even if the blow hadn't killed him, the drain from using his Great Sword would have. He heard his mate's bellowed orders, the Knight's version of 'kill them all', and turned to join in the slaughter.

A wild howl torn from thousands of throats answered Dai Atlas' commands. The entire Circle of Light raced into battle, weapons drawn and optics blazing with fury. Behind them came every citizen of the city who chose to take up a weapon, visiting a terrible retribution on the slaver army. Some of the slavers, seeing that the tables had turned, tried to run, but the enraged Cybertronians weren't about to allow it.

There would be many a penance in the coming decaorn, but for now they had an army to obliterate. Then all traces of the slaver ships and base to find and dismantle.

It was over too soon for Axe and his mate, their rage not yet quelled. But even in the midst of it Axe could feel his mate zeroing in on Drift with the intent to destroy him.

~Dai!~ Axe skidded as he made an abrupt change of direction, launching into the air. ~He was fighting with us, not against us! Wing would not want you to do this!~

~Wing is gone. That Decepticon that killed him will be too,~ Dai Atlas snarled back, his spark in too much pain to accept reason.

~The slaver killed Wing!~ Axe responded, racing to catch up with his mate before Dai Atlas caught Drift, who was still struggling with the larger, taller Decepticon with a hook instead of one hand.

~That triple traitor did!~ Dai Atlas snarled as he drew Strength of Conviction, the yellow gem glowing bright as the sun overhead and blade crackling with deep red spark energy. ~If he hadn't betrayed us, Wing wouldn't be gray. I told you to make sure he deactivated. You failed me.~

Axe keened, but didn't stop, subspacing his ax and slamming into Dai Atlas at full throttle. Sparks flew and metal screeched in protest as the two giants hit the ground, Axe trying to pin his larger mate. ~Dai, stop!~

Shogun darted over to help. Orange optics flicked in Drift's direction. ::I'd stay out of Dai Atlas' line of sight for a bit, if I were you, Decepticon.::

::I'm not a Decepticon!:: Drift roared back. ::And I'm a little busy at the moment,:: he pointed out with a growl, still struggling with Lockdown in the sandy dunes.

Shogun blinked at that, wings twitching as he helped Axe with Dai Atlas, managing to get the big mech pinned long enough to fasten a set of restraints on his wrists. Axe shot the red mech a grateful look, then concentrated on Dai Atlas again while the former Altihex policemech turned to keep an optic on Drift and Lockdown.

No one doubted that the dark Decepticon wouldn't make it far, whether it was Drift or a Knight that took him down. As it was, the burgundy shape so similar to Wing's slashed at Lockdown, cutting into him deeply from shoulder to hip. It was more than enough to give Drift the edge he needed to cut open the Decepticon's chest and forcefully tear out the still-full spark chamber.

Dozens of optics watched the lifeless mech fall. Some of the Knights continued to chase the retreating slavers, others gathered in a clump, watching everything. Optics moved from the restrained Dai Atlas and the unhappy Axe to Drift and the crumpled bounty hunter, wondering what was going to happen next.

It came as no surprise to the former military mecha, be they Knight or civilian, that the instant Lockdown was removed as a threat Drift's optics snapped to Dai Atlas. Stasis cuffs were noted, and those bright blue optics moved on to seek out Wing's grayed frame.

A small sound of grief escaped Drift before he locked it all away and turned back to the remaining battle with a psychotic vengeance. He was one of the few on the field who had no issues with slaughtering retreating enemies and he knew it.

Shogun looked from Drift to Axe and back, then chose to go after Drift, keeping an optic on the white grounder. He was evaluating the white mech, his insistence that he was no longer a Decepticon. And he would make sure that Drift would be dealt with if he harmed a resident of city or Circle.

Axe watched them go, then turned his attention back to his mate. ~Dai?~

~Get these cuffs _off_ me,~ the giant snarled in pure rage.

~Not until you're sane enough and won't try to damage anyone,~ Axe informed him. ~Drift can be dealt with later. Most of the Knights and the citizens are watching you. This is not making a very good impression on them.~

Several huffed vents later and Dai Atlas had managed to lock away his rage. His mate knew how to play him, knew him flawlessly, knew what he'd respond to.

~I'm calm enough,~ Dai Atlas rumbled, subdued as the grief took over his processors.

Axe vented a relieved sigh, quickly pinging Shogun for the code to the stasis cuffs. Once he had the code from the former policemech, he removed the cuffs and stashed them in subspace, helping his mate to his pedes before they focused on the processes of post-battle cleanup.

::Shogun, try to get the coordinates of the slaver camp from Drift. He's the only one who knows where it is.:: Axe pinged the former cop.

There was a moment of silence from the red Knight. ::He gave up the coordinates after a moment of prodding to get his attention... He also says the camp is full of captives brought by the slavers. Organic and cybernetic races.::

::...That is going to be a problem,:: Axe admitted. ::I'm not sure any of us can slaughter prisoners anymore. But we can at least take out the camp and decide what to do with their captors later.::

"Knights!" Dai Atlas bellowed. "Injured, report to Redline. Fighting fit, with us. Civilians, return to the city and return the weapons to the Citadel."

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Shogun had been following Drift, keeping a close optic on the white grounder. He had watched the former Decepticon tearing through the retreating slavers while avoiding all of the Knights. Now, the last of the slavers had fallen; there was no one left to chase.

::Drift!:: the red Knight dropped out of the air, catching hold of a white spaulder and easily blocking the expected attack. He knew not to touch a soldier in a fight without expecting the reflex to kick in. "Enough."

"Never enough," the white mech muttered, his field a maelstrom of old memories, self-hatred and anger that no longer had an outlet. He dropped his shoulder to remove the unwelcome touch but didn't otherwise try to escape as resignation filtered into his field. "It's not like he's going to give me a chance."

"I don't intend to let him deactivate you offhand. Dai Atlas is in pain and grieving... Wing was his creation, and Dai is... not rational at the moment." The red Knight inclined his helm in the direction of the city, shooing Drift in that direction only to find that the white mech had frozen in pure, open shock.

"Creation?" he stammered.

"You didn't know?" Shogun blinked. "It's no secret. Dai Atlas and Axe are bonded mates, and Wing is their creation. That's why Dai Atlas is so upset."

"It also explains why he hates me so much before," Drift's engine growled in annoyance before he began to move. "Why would _you_ protect me?"

"Dai Atlas lost his younger creation, Sheerwing, to a Decepticon attack when we fled Cybertron," the red Knight informed Drift as he followed the smaller mech. "Sheerwing's ship was destroyed above Cybertron. That is part of the reason for his hatred of Decepticons. And I was a cop before becoming a Knight... I was trained not to jump to conclusions, to evaluate all evidence before making a decision. You fought with us, and you have stated that you are no longer a Decepticon. Therefore, you should be given the benefit of the doubt."

"So how do trials work here?" Drift shrugged his acceptance even as he plotted his escape. He'd seen the giant's rage, and given the reason for it ... Drift had no expectation anyone would last long against it.

"I will be keeping an optic on you until Dai Atlas is rational, or at least inclined to actually think before he acts. Then, we shall see." Red wings flared and settled, the big mech using his deactivated weapon as a walking stick.

"That's what I thought," Drift muttered, otherwise falling silent for the trek back to the city.

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Axe was weary when he stopped outside the apartment he's shared with his mate since the Citadel had been built. It had been a long orn, a hard battle and his spark still ached for his creation. What hurt even more was the seething rage creating a block with his bonded mate. Dai Atlas was controlled, but he was far from settled. The black Knight's armor was as drooped as it could get, his optics dimmed. This was not going to be an easy confrontation, likely to be ugly for the both of them. Steeling himself, he walked into their quarters, looking around for his mate.

The washrack was on, the rumble of angry engines audible over the rain of solvent on plating.

Venting heavily, Axe made his way over to the washrack, stopping just inside the door to watch his mate. He could almost see the miniature ion storm raging over the taller mech's helm. For a long moment, Axe just stood and watched, then he shook himself and spoke. "Dai."

"You failed me twice." The dark rumble was a tone Axe had heard directed at officers about to be sent to the worst assignment the General could come up with, but never at himself.

Black armor plates shivered. "The situation changed. You know as well as I do that plans can change. It couldn't be helped, Dai." Axe risked a step closer.

Blazing red optics lock onto him, the anger twisting with self-recrimination and grief. "Couldn't be helped? All you had to do was distract him when he was being attacked and it would have been over! Instead Wing is gone and _he's_ still functioning."

Axe's optics flashed. "You think I don't feel as bad about this as you do? You think I don't blame myself for Wing's death? Do you think this doesn't hurt me as much as it hurts you?" He stepped closer, his armor rising aggressively.

"_Wing_ isn't the issue," Dai Atlas hissed at his mate, turning as his armor flared in matching aggression along with his wings. "That Decepticon triple traitor's continued functioning is. Now there must be a trial ... or I handle it myself and take the consequences."

Blue optics flashed with shock. "Wing would not want you to do that. Neither would Starspark, or Titan. Nor would I. Don't do anything foolish!" The black mech advanced, seizing hold of his mate's arm. At this range neither of them could stop the bond from spooling open along their fields. The hate that Axe has long known his mate bore toward Drift had coalesced into something very dark in Dai Atlas' spark. After losing so many creations, including the one his mate had carried, he thought he knew how bad things could get. This was on an entirely new level. It wasn't driven by pain, but by something Axe almost thought was jealously.

Before the black mech could pursue that thought, both their comms pinged with a top-priority message from Redline to get their afts down to the medical bay.

Effectively distracted from their fight, Axe blinked at his mate for a moment, then turned and headed for the door, wondering what was going on, setting aside the unsettling revelations to be pondered later. ::Redline? What's going on?::

::Wing is still functioning,:: the medic replied, something that caused Dai Atlas to stumble before he caught himself and got into the air.

::What?:: the blue giant demanded.

Axe's engines stalled, the black and gold mech almost dropping out of the air before he caught himself. ::Wing... Wing is...:: Shock resonated through the bond.

::His spark is still in his frame,:: Redline repeated. ::He's very weak, but if he's stayed this long he's not going to give up before I get him put together. Just get here. He'll do better with a couple supporting fields close by.::

::We're on our way.:: Axe's engines roared, propelling him toward the medical tower as fast as his turbines could take him. Smaller fliers, enjoying the sun on their wings for the first time in thousands of vorns, scrambled to get out of his way. The big Knight barely even noticed them, all his attention on his destination.

~How can he be alive?~ Dai Atlas felt across the bond, shock and joy at the news suppressing everything else.

~Maybe... Maybe when he struck down the slaver, it stopped the spear just enough to keep it from piercing his spark chamber,~ Axe replied after a moment of thought, grateful for anything that put his mate in a more stable frame of processor. ~No one thought to check because we all thought he was deactivated... He looked deactivated.~

~Yes, he did. Maybe the spear was special,~ Dai Atlas murmured as they landed on the run, entering Redline's domain and skidding to a stop to look for the medic or their creation.

The medic barely glanced up as they came in, peeling shattered armor away from Wing's chest. Once the mangled plates were off and set aside, he looked up at them. "The spear tip left a deep gouge in his spark chamber, but did not pierce it. He was in deep stasis, which kept anyone from realizing he was still functional."

Axe leaned over, very gently placing a hand atop Wing's, peering into his chest to see the golden light of the young jet's spark glowing within its casing.

"So dim," Dai Atlas murmured even as his field reached out with love and support, seeking to make a connection with the field that had pulled so tightly around Wing's spark that the jet read as deactivated even to touch.

"He is very weak, but he's holding on with tenacity worthy of you two when you latch onto something." Redline's wings twitched slightly. "I know I have no chance of getting you two out of here now that you know Wing is still functional, so just try to stay out from underpede, please. I have a lot of work to do to get Wing back up and bouncing around the Citadel again."

The black and gold Knight's field brushed along Wing's closely-pulled field. "We will stay out of your way."

"Just tell us what you need," Dai Atlas promised as he drew his mate away from the table even as they extended their fields to keep in contact with their creation.

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Systems booted up slowly, with the slow, methodical precision of medical overrides. Wing's whole frame ached, indicating that he'd gone through major repairs. His optics hadn't booted up yet, and his sensors were just starting to come online, but he could feel several energy fields brushing against his. He recognized all of them... The age and strength of Dai Atlas, Axe, slightly younger but just as strong, the bright warmth of Starspark, and the calm, relaxed field of Titanus. His family was there, all of them. Only one was missing... He didn't feel the guarded, edgy field of Drift anywhere.

Extending his own field to mingle with those so familiar fields and picking up the centered field that was Redline, Wing finally onlined his optics, looking around. They told him what his field had. His family had gathered, but Drift was absent.

"I'm sorry we thought you deactivated," Dai Atlas was the first to speak, the first to move forward and touch him.

"I thought I was about to deactivate when that spear struck me," Wing admitted, leaning into Dai Atlas' hand. "I don't blame you for not noticing that I wasn't. Don't blame yourself for it, either. You couldn't have known." Golden optics dimmed, a soft purr escaping his vocalizer.

"Wing." Starspark approached, reaching out to take her brother's other hand. Her features, nearly a mirror of her sire's, showed a mixture of relief and worry.

"I'm going to be fine," he assured her, assured them all. "Where's Drift?"

The innocent question unleashed everything Dai Atlas had managed to bury with worry and hope for Wing's survival. Even as he scrambled to pull his field back to protect Wing from the _rage-pain-hate-will kill_ response the giant had, he knew it was too late.

"Shogun's been keeping an optic on him," Titanus said quietly.

Wing flinched, staring up at Dai Atlas in shock. "Dai, don't hurt him. Leave Drift alone! He didn't hurt me... He _wouldn't_ hurt me. Drift is not the enemy!"

"He's a traitor at least three times over," Dai Atlas ground out, trying desperately not to let himself sink too far into the emotional chaos that the Decepticon created in him. "If you weren't trying to protect him in a situation he created you wouldn't have been injured."

"He was trying to fix his mistake," Wing insisted. "I _know_ he won't hurt me. Dai, creator, please. Don't hurt him." Pleading golden optics lifted to meet Dai Atlas' red. "I can't lose him... He's what I've been searching for, for so long."

Axe blinked, rubbing his mate's upper back with one hand. "Pardon?"

"He betrayed his army, a deserter at _best_ before you found him," Dai Atlas snarled, too wound up to be affected by his creation's pleading. "He betrayed us trying to escape. He betrayed _them_ to us trying to 'fix' things. Do you have _any_ grasp of what he's caused? We have to abandon Aelios, everything we've built. Another exodus. And you'd defend him still?"

Wing keened. "He wants to change, I know it. Dai, please."

~Calm down.~ Axe grasped his mate's shoulders firmly.

Starspark looked from her brother to her sire uneasily, her folded wings twitching against her back.

Titanus placed a hand on her shoulder lightly. ::It's not easy for a creator to accept that their creation has chosen a mate that is disapproved of,:: he commed her privately.

Long, wide blue and white wings trembled, caught between rage and pain. ~I can't,~ he eventually admitted. ~I can't calm down about that mech.~

~You're going to have to,~ Axe informed him. ~If Wing is so determined to keep Drift, he's going to defy you no matter what. Shogun has said that Drift no longer considers himself a Decepticon. And Drift clearly means a great deal to Wing.~

Wing slowly sat up on the medical berth, wincing at the ache in his frame. Wide golden optics remained on Dai Atlas as the giant trembled, struggling with what his mate said, what his creation wanted and what his spark and processors told him.

~Nothing but death will ever come to those around him,~ Dai Atlas struggled to explain the sanest of his objections, the only one that had any validity. Yet even he knew there was nothing valid about any of his objections outside of himself. "Keep your pet away from me," he ordered Wing, his tone cold and field full of hurt-filled acknowledgement of his place in the situation.

With that, Dai Atlas stalked away, all too aware that Wing would want to see Drift and if _he_ saw Drift, he'd crush the mech and tear out his spark even if Wing was watching. Right or wrong, he was still ready to murder the mech.

Wing watched Dai Atlas leave, letting out a keen of distress. He didn't like being at odds with his creator, but he wanted to keep Drift, and didn't want to see him hurt.

Axe placed a gentle hand on Wing's back, rubbing between quivering wings. "He'll get over it, though it might take a long time. For now, try to be content that he's voluntarily walking away so you can see Drift. Now, what do you mean that he's what you've been searching for so long?"

Wing leaned into the touch, venting a sigh. "Drift is my _one_, the mecha who will complete me. I'm not sure how I know; I just do. My spark practically wants to leap from its casing to touch his." The young jet waved his hands helplessly, indicating that he couldn't find the right words to describe what he was feeling.

"Resonance," Axe vented softly. "That's spark resonance. I just hope the rest of the package works out. Spark resonance doesn't mean the rest of the mech is going to be easy to have."

The little white jet blinked. "Resonance?" He pondered that for a moment. "So this is spark resonance..."

"I can go retrieve Drift," Titanus offered, shifting a folded wing. "Less chance of any surprise encounters with Dai."

"True," Axe nodded. "Just be careful, Wing," he looked at his creation seriously. "Just because Drift has spark resonance with you does not mean he understands what it is. I've heard stories of mecha like him panicking when it sinks in that something has that much power over him. Now enjoy greeting your lover. I'm going to see about dragging Dai back to the land of the sane."

Titanus' optics went briefly out of focus as he commed Shogun, vanishing a moment later. One of the medical interns, cleaning equipment, almost jumped right out of her armor at his sudden disappearance, getting a chuckle from Redline.

Golden optics lifted to meet Axe's blue. "I hope you can get him to come around... I don't like the thought of having to hide from him."

"_You_ don't have to hide," Axe assured him with a gentle smile. "Just keep Drift out of his sight. I doubt he could control himself right now," he added before walking away.

"I'm still keeping an optic on Drift, so he and I will be together more often than not," Wing pointed out. "So keeping him away from Dai will involve some hiding." He watched Axe leave, then shifted on the berth, waiting.

The big teleporter reappeared a klik later, one hand on Shogun's shoulder, the other firmly on the back of Drift's shoulders, keeping the squirming grounder from getting away. Titanus released Shogun first, pushing Drift slightly toward the berth where Wing was sitting.

Two stumbled steps forward and Drift had his balance again, giving a glare over his spaulder at Titanus before focusing on Wing. "Seems you're as hard to kill as I am."

The teleporter only smiled serenely before walking away, disappearing mid-step. Starspark was moments behind him.

Wing perked up, wings fluttering. "It certainly seems so." He reached out to touch white armor, running his palm along Drift's arm. He felt the desire flare hot under his fingers, the quiver of white armor.

"So when are you getting turned loose?" Drift managed to focus past his base desires.

"As soon as Redline says I can leave." Wing glanced at the medic, who was going over all of the readings.

Hearing his designation, Redline looked up. "You're cleared to return to your quarters, but you need to rest and refuel."

"Good," the jet grinned and hopped up from the berth. "I'll be good."

"Since when?" Drift snorted.

"Just go with it so that Red will let me out of here," Wing told Drift in a stage whisper, optics glowing playfully, gently nudging the white grounder with his elbow.

The medic shook his helm at them, clearly amused. "Shoo, both of you."

Wing trilled and pulled a mostly unresisting Drift towards the door, remembering well how the grounder took to flying. Drift remained silent until they reached Wing's quarters. As soon as the door shut and locked, Wing found himself pinned between the wall and Drift, the grounder's armor already distinctly warm. A black hand moved between them, groping at Wing's valve cover.

Trill became purr, Wing's valve cover snapping open, lubricant already starting to seep between the platelets. His hands came up, stroking over Drift's back, exploring the planes of his New Crystal City armor. The young jet tilted his helm slightly, leaning forward to press a light kiss to Drift's lips.

Unlike previous attempts, this time Drift didn't turn away, though whether he returned it was debatable. Still, his fingers were reasonably gentle as two pressed into Wing's valve. Then Drift's mouth was against Wing's throat, nipping cables lightly. "You knew he was going to do that, bring the army out."

"I wasn't sure," Wing admitted. "I had thought that the other Knights would come, but not that the city would rise, or that he would arm the citizens." He shifted one leg out of the way to give Drift better access to his valve. His spark was flaring frantically, trying to convince the one so close to it to come out so they could complete each other.

Strong fingers pumped his valve, teasing the lining and the sensors inside while his field was treated to the burning arousal building inside Drift.

It was difficult for Wing to keep his chestplates closed, locking the armor plates down. He worked his fingers into an armor seam, one hand exploring Drift's spaulder, seeking a sensitive seam or a sensor node under the white plating. Matching arousal rose inside the white jet, a moan escaping as his valve nodes were stimulated, the calipers trying to close down on Drift's fingers as they would a spike.

That was what finally drew a shudder from Drift and he pulled his fingers free to drive his spike inside the pulsing space of Wing's valve with a moan. His lubricant-coated fingers came up to press against Wing's lip plates.

The young jet's lips parted, his glossa flicking out to curl around Drift's fingers, savoring the taste of his own lubricants. Purr picking up in volume and intensity, Wing wrapped his arms around Drift's frame, lifting his leg, offering his dripping valve to the pounding pleasure he knew was coming.

With a growl that was pure arousal Drift thrust in deep, his reparations already picking up at the duel stimulation. His fingers pressed in and out of Wing's oral cavity in a similar beat to his hips driving against Wing's. As much as he was chasing his own pleasure, he was aware of his lover's and sought to bring more.

Wing's glossa flicked at the pads of Drift's fingers, his sparkling golden optics meeting Drift's blue. The jet's purr made his plating vibrate, sending tingles down Drift's arm from the digits in Wing's mouth. The white jet shifted his hips slightly to adjust the angle, Drift's spike running over another set of nodes, drawing a purring moan from Wing's vocalizer.

Slowly Drift's optic covers closed, his mouth open slightly as he gave himself over to the pleasure and the strange sense of _safe_ he had when alone with Wing. The jet had earned his respect, delighted in his passion, accepted his nature and drove him to better himself as Megatron had in those early orns before he became a warlord.

The jet's dark palms smoothed down Drift's back, flirting with the armor seams and plate edges. His field wrapped around the white grounder's, bright and warm, the jet's purr almost a caress in itself. His valve calipers rippled in a complex rhythm along Drift's spike as it slid in and out of the welcoming slick heat and tightness.

Drift grunted and drove his hips forward harder, the charge beginning to pick up intensity that radiated from his spike outward to the rest of his systems. With his face pressed against Wing's throat, his optics off and all his attention focused on the building pleasure of that rhythmic slide, his voice was nearly inaudible.

"Glad you didn't die," Drift whispered.

Wing's throat vibrated as he purred. "I didn't want to leave you," he murmured, tilting his helm to lick along a white audial finial. He could feel the overload getting ready to crest in Drift and squeezed a little tighter around the spike delivering such pleasure. It felt so good to have this welcome after almost deactivating. To feel his resonant's spark so close to his, whether or not Drift was ready to merge. It was enough that Drift _wanted_ him.

A growling moan rumbled up from Drift's chassis as his hands tightened on Wing's hips. A few hard thrusts and he roared his release, pumping thick ribbons of hot transfluid deep into Wing.

The jet's high keen answered Drift's roar, Wing's frame stiffening against Drift's, his valve tightening around his lover's spike, milking it of every last drop of transfluid. Slender wings fluttered against the wall as Wing's fingers hooked into an armor seam, tips stroking over the circuitry underneath until both their frames were locked in the maelstrom of loose energy that was an intense overload.

Vents wide open and fans on high, they remained still for a long moment, the wall and Drift's angle pinning Wing against it the only thing keeping them upright. Mingled fields sang with the pleasure they'd just shared and Wing's sought to coax a bit more intimacy from its lover.

Wing rubbed his frame against Drift's, brushing his cheek against the white grounder's. His field wrapped itself around Drift, mingling with his lover's, the jet's spark still pulsing wildly. Lifting one hand, he stroked the back of Drift's neck, under the edge of his helm. It felt so good to be this close, to have Drift feel content and safe. He knew, just on their fields, that they'd both be in recharge before Drift stopped driving him to overload after overload.


	25. Seeking a Home

**Kneeling to the Sword 25: Seeking a Home**  
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Millennia had passed since the civil war had begun on Cybertron, since Titanium had said goodbye to his family before they fled the planet. The big triple changer had seen his planet and his people torn apart by war, had seen many planets stripped for resources to fuel the fighting. Cybertron's population was a bare fraction of what it had once been, the planet almost devoid of energy, its ecosystem ravaged, most of the mecha-animal populations completely destroyed. The once-mighty Cybertronian empire had fallen, its central world a barren husk, and still the war raged with no real end in sight.

Titanium had been fighting for a very long time, under many Primes, but never like this. He was sick of it, fed up with the pointless slaughter. He'd walked off a battlefield, ignoring the orders of his commander, his younger mate following. When the Prime and SIC had asked where he thought he was going, the ancient triple changer had informed them that he was retiring from the war and leaving Cybertron, never to return. His mate GoldenRod had added that where his mate went, he would follow.

Orns later, after the threats and arguing had died down with Optimus Prime and Ultra Magnus admitting defeat, there was a crowd of muttering Autobots watching as the purple and silver giant and the smaller golden mech prepared to board Titanium's ship, a massive, old-style cargo shuttle refitted and designated _Stellar Wind_. The ship was stocked with supplies for a long journey, collected over a very long time and not something anyone watching knew about. The ancient warrior made no hints about where he was going, only that he would never be seen again.

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Five orns in and they still hadn't left Cybertron's system, or its gravity well for that matter. The _Stellar Wind_ kept criss-crossing the space, much to the increasing irritation of Ultra Magnus.

"Still in orbit, I see," the cultured tones of Mirage reached Titanium as he plotted yet another orbit.

Titanium looked up from his console. "Yes, we are... There's something, or rather, someone, I need to find." His single remaining optic swept over the screen, then went out of focus as his attention turned inward, as if listening to something only he could hear.

"I hope you find him soon," he murmured uneasily, offering the giant a cube of energon. "Before someone notices I'm AWOL, or finds my resignation papers."

The bigger mech accepted the cube. "Thank you. And I'm hoping so, too. I can almost hear Magnus' fuming from up here."

"He's not the one to worry about," Mirage said simply. "Jazz will make sure this ship is blown out of the sky to avoid my escape. We're just lucky that I don't need to check in very often."

The big triple changer rumbled softly. "Hopefully I'll find Sheer and we'll be long gone before anyone notices."

"Agreed," Mirage nodded and settled back to wait. He'd heard of spark bonds being used this way, but he'd never actually witnessed it.

Titanium took a drink from the cube, turning back to the sensors. He'd found chunks of wreckage and debris, but so far he had yet to find any mecha. The bond he shared with Sheerwing insisted that the younger mech was _here_; Titanium just had to find him.

Joors past, then half an orn.

"Titanium, I believe that is a frame ... and it's not gray," Mirage suddenly spoke up.

A red optic immediately focused on the screen. "You're right. That is a frame, and it's still alive." Maneuvering the huge ship closer, the ancient triple changer headed for the hatch, flying out to collect the drifting mecha. GoldenRod was waiting by the hatch when the larger mech reentered the ship, peering curiously at the stasis-locked mecha.

"Let's get him to the medbay," GoldenRod told his mate, his features grim. "How in the _Pit_ he lasted this long, I'll never know."

"Sheer tenacity is my only guess." Titanium shifted the mech in his arms, walking toward the medical bay. "No Great Sword... He's a civilian."

"Pretty well armored though," GoldenRod hummed as the burned and battered frame was set on smaller medberth and began the prep work to recover him. "Maybe former military? Let's hope he's not one of the Cons."

"He's Kaonite, from the look of him." Titanium looked the mech over, then his remaining optic widened. "I know this mech. This is Kaleidoscope, Sheerwing's lover. He was an armorer and weapon-smith at the Citadel."

GoldenRod looked startled. "You're sure? That's a lot of char to see through."

The big triple changer nodded, reaching out to trace the lines of the mech's armor. "I'm sure. His armor is pretty distinctive, and not just because of how heavy it is. All that plating must have been what saved him when the ship he was on exploded."

"Which means the heavier of the Knights might have made it, but the civilians probably didn't," GoldenRod sighed. "We're going to be here a long time, aren't we?"

"When we find Sheerwing, he can help with the surviving Knights, since his Great Sword can lead him to others of its kind. But the civilians... I wouldn't hold out hope for many of them surviving." Titanium looked down at Kaleidoscope for a long moment. "Do what you can for him... I'll be up on the bridge." He ran a gentle hand over his mate's shoulder and back, then took his leave, heading back to the command center.

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Sixteen orns later Mirage was a fidgety wreck of nerves, GoldenRod still hadn't recharged, there were nine deactivated frames in the hold and three live ones in the medical bay. Only two of them had seen much work, though. Kaleidoscope had been the focus until Sheerwing had been dragged aboard missing a leg, arm and half his face. Now the bomber-class Knight was repaired enough to be brought out of stasis long enough to help find his surviving fellows.

"He doesn't look all that repaired," Mirage commented dubiously as GoldenRod finalized the settings to bring his most important patient out of stasis.

"He's not," the golden mech shrugged. "We don't have the supplies to fix him completely. He's just repaired enough he can direct us to the other Great Swords."

Titanium's right wing was twitching, shifting back and forth like the sensor wing of a nervous Praxian. The big mech was standing next to the berth Sheerwing occupied, one hand hovering just over badly scorched armor. "Once we have as many of the Great Swords and Knights as we can find, Sheer can give us a direction for his carrier. That's the direction we'll be heading in once we're done here." He tilted his helm toward his golden-armored mate. "The rest of the repairs can be done when we find the new Citadel."

GoldenRod nodded and triggered the boot cycle over the equipment's objections. "I'll have to wake him up every so often to make sure we haven't passed it."

Slowly dark red optics powered up, though there was little awareness behind them yet. It would take longer than usual given the amount of damage Sheerwing's frame still sported.

The big silver and purple triple changer leaned over, brushing his fingertips over blackened armor. "Sheer?"

The damaged vocalizer cycled several times as red optics focused on Titanium. "Titan...sire."

Titanium smiled in relief. "It's good to see you again, though I wish the circumstances were better." He placed his hand on Sheerwing's. "We need your help, Sheer. Talk to your Sword, ask it where the others still floating in space are."

"Hardline," Sheerwing murmured. "I'll give you the map I get."

His sire nodded, lifting an arm and unspooling the cable, plugging into Sheerwing. ~Kal is alive, but not conscious. His heavy Kaonite armor saved his life.~

The sure of _gratitude-excitement_ nearly got Sheerwing to sit up, but a firm hand on his chest kept him flat. "No moving," GoldenRod said firmly. "You shouldn't be out of stasis, but we need that map."

Titanium sent an image of the badly battered Kaleidoscope on the other berth, hooked up to the monitors, his armor burned and seared. ~You and he will require major repair when we find Dai and the others. Show us where the Great Swords are, and once we have them we can go find the rest of our family.~

The battered frame relaxed and Sheerwing turned inward, nudging at Shadows of the Fire until the Great Sword responded. ~I know you aren't happy, but show me where they are. Otherwise they and their bearers will be left to drift forever.~

From the grumbling, the ache and the pain, Shadows of the Fire responded with a frustratingly vague location of its fellows. There was no sense of distance beyond close, far or _very_ far, but it was enough to start with.

~You're looking for a hundred and sixty-two Great Swords and forty-six Knights,~ Sheerwing added weakly.

~Thank you, Sheer. And thank you, Shadows of the Fire. We will do our best to retrieve all of them. For now, you must rest.~ Titanium brushed his hand over Sheerwing's helm, waiting for the younger triple to sink back into stasis before disengaging the cable.

"Did you get what we need?" Mirage asked, his entire being twitchy.

"Shadows of the Fire gave us the locations of the other Great Swords. With that map, we can find them a lot quicker than we would by just blindly flying around. And then we're gone." Titanium nodded.

"Good," Mirage let out a vent of relief. "What can I do to speed things up?"

"Another set of optics on the scanners would be appreciated... Easier to spot frames and swords with more than one mech watching." Titanium inclined his helm slightly, turning it to fix his single optic on the smaller mech.

Mirage inclined his helm easily and turned to head to the control room. "If you can ping me that map, I'll feed it into the nav system."

The bigger mech sent him the databurst. "The sooner we find those swords and the surviving Knights, the sooner we can put Cybertron behind us. Let's get to it."

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The _Stellar Wind_ had left Cybertron behind just over a hundred vorns before, with just over fifty survivors in the medical bay and several sets of spare quarters. In the main hold, a large cargo crate had been hastily overhauled to hold the Great Swords that had been retrieved, the frames of deactivated Knights and civilians carefully stored for the long trip.

Sheerwing and Kaleidoscope were being rebuilt as best GoldenRod could manage with the parts Titanium was locating, though they would still require extensive rebuilding when the group finally found the other Knights. At least they were able to remain conscious for more than a breem or two, and GoldenRod was working on getting them mobile. Most of their charred armor had been pried off, their frames too weak to support the extra weight.

Titanium walked into the ship's rec room, pausing to look around. Spotting Mirage, the big triple changer detoured to grab a cube, then made his way over to the blue and white mech. "Mirage."

"Titanium," the noble's rich voice responded softly, far more politely than any noble would have addressed the soldier before the war.

The bigger mech settled into a chair, stretching out his legs and regarding the noble for a moment. "You've calmed down considerably since we left Cybertron's system... At least now you're not acting like a petro-rabbit in a cyber-wolf den. Why were you so desperate to leave Cybertron?"

"How well do you know Meister's reputation?" Mirage answered with a question, how voice low and quiet. "Or Jazz's for that matter, when he's being my boss and not the morale officer."

"Quite well, actually. I've known mecha like him many times before." Titanium tilted his helm, taking a sip from his cube. His brilliant red optic watched Mirage steadily.

"Then you know what betraying a mech like him means," Mirage murmured. "I was Ops, his SIC. You don't retire from a position like that. Not under a mecha like him. If he caught me, I'd be lucky if all I lost was my spark."

Titanium nodded knowingly. "Ahh yes, that I understand. You wanted out, and he wouldn't let you out." He took another sip, lifting a gold-streaked optic rim over the purple plate covering the ruin of his right optic. "How did you know I would be going far enough away that he wouldn't catch you? You seemed to have a very good idea of what I intended."

A small, knowing smile slid across Mirage's features briefly. "As I said, I was SIC in Ops and their best spy. There is very little I do not know about anyone of value in the war and most of the others. You, for instance, and your student who now leads the Knights of Light. Or he did when they left Cybertron with more than thirty thousand mecha on twelve ships. Nine of which escaped the system. I knew you sired a creation with him long before you admitted to it when Sheerwing was brought on board. I know just how many _very_ expensive packages you sent via a _very_ expensive teleporting courier over the vorns. Sparkling items. Gifts for adults. I know where you liked to disappear to before those ships left. I knew you'd be joining them when you left. They have what Cybertron was. I want that civilization back. True, I have no idea where we're going, but I know just how far it must be to have not been found yet, and I know, roughly, what we will find when we get there."

Titanium's optic ridges had risen higher with every word, almost vanishing under the edge of his helmet. "Impressive. Yes, Dai Atlas was my student, my family, and yes, I promised him that I would find him when I had enough of war. Though I'm glad that no one else found out about Sheer... If the military before the war had found out that I'd sired a sparkling with Dai Atlas, they'd've stopped at nothing to get their hands on him." Long wings twitched, hiking up higher at that thought before relaxing. "What do you expect to find at the end of our journey? What will you do?"

"Given the number of civilians and some most unusual stories of who was courted for that journey, I expect to find a Cybertronian city," Mirage said simply. "As for what I will do ... I have many skills from my duties if none of my extended kin will take me in. My eventual goal is to regain something similar to the existence I had before the war. Every city has its rich elite."

"It will take a lot of work for you to get that status... Dai was very firm about taking those who were willing to work, and work hard, for a better life away from the war," the old mech pointed out. "It very likely won't be anything like the life you had before."

"One does not survive Jazz if one is not willing to work hard, or get one's hands dirty," Mirage pointed out, his manner stiffening in a reminder that the rank he had just walked away from had been earned in spite of his origins, not because of them. "I survived the war on the front lines, the only one of my kind to do so," golden optics flashed brightly. "Yet another new set of social rules is not going to stop me from rebuilding my existence. This time into the one I _want_."

Titanium inclined his helm in acknowledgement. "I will vouch for you when we arrive, and for Spin." He glanced over toward the small amber-and-green mech deep in recharge on a couch, curled up on a pillow made for much larger mechs. "It may take some time before you or he will be completely accepted."

"I was still not completely accepted among the Autobots," Mirage shrugged with an elegant roll of his shoulder. "I will survive the effort to prove myself again."

"Of that I have no doubt." Titanium finished off his cube, setting the empty container aside. "But why did you not bring your mate?"

"My..." Mirage suddenly laughed before his mood went dark. "My mate was extinguished on the shuttle with Optimus Prime, Ratchet, Ironhide and the others. I have been without one for a very long time."

An optic ridge lifted. "What of Hound?"

"A convenient cover for us both," Mirage shook his helm. "It was critical that no one discover I was bonded to Prowl, and he was a fellow Ops agent looking to avoid any personal entanglements. It worked well for us."

"And fooled everyone, I suspect." Titanium murmured as he rolled this information over in his processor a few times before storing it as irrelevant. "I know Dai wanted to bring mecha from all walks of life so as to create a self-sustaining, independent city far from the war. I haven't been in contact with him since shortly before he and the Circle of Light left Cybertron. I know my family is waiting there... Dai Atlas and Axe, Wing, Titanus and his daughter Starspark. I'm completely expecting to be pounced on and hugged until my armor creaks." The old mech chuckled softly. "Beyond that, I'm not sure what to expect. But it will be far better than what we left behind."

"It would be difficult for it not to be," Mirage agreed. "Short of it being a Decepticon city."

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Sheerwing shivered at the sensation of the light blanket caressing his protoform. While it had been fairly well repaired and he was able to walk around, being without his armor was still terrifying on a fundamental level. The strong protoform arms of his lover, his mate, drove the fear away. With a smile he leaned down and kissed Kaleidoscope softly.

The shorter mech stirred against him, tilting his helm up to return the kiss. Kaleidoscope was almost completely disarmored, the charring that had covered his armor showing on his protoform here and there, where GoldenRod had yet to repair it. Bare wing panels shifted under the blanket.

"I'm glad to be able to hold you again," the Kaonite murmured. "Even more than finally being off that medical berth. I'd thought I'd never get the chance again."

"I never expected to boot up again either, when I realized the engines were exploding," Sheerwing shivered at the memory. "So many lost..."

"We have our thick armor to thank for our survival," his mate murmured. "Thick plating and sheer tenacity." A shiver ran through his frame and he pressed closer to Sheerwing, wincing a little as dull aches ran through his sensor net. "Too many lost. I am very, very glad to not be among the deactivated... I was terrified that I would be, seeing that wall of plasma and fire coming at me."

"I only saw the warnings," Sheerwing murmured. "The bridge was all sirens and flashing red warnings. Then I felt the heat. Then nothing."

"I was on my way up to the bridge," Kaleidoscope admitted. "I could feel the ship shaking, then fire and searing heat, and agonizing pain. Then... blackness, until I woke up in the medical bay with GoldenRod leaning over me. I thought I was deactivated and looking at someone gone before me, but the aching in my frame convinced me otherwise. I hurt too much to be deactivated." He ran one palm over Sheerwing's protoform, being careful of the bright, careful welds were damaged struts had been repaired or replaced.

"I wish you would have made it," Sheerwing admitted with a sigh, pressing into the touch that was ever so much more intimate than any touch they'd shared before other than their sparks. "I would have liked to hold you as my ship was lost."

"I wish so, too. Then Titan might have found us still clinging to each other, all but welded together by the heat." The smaller flier traced a weld line lightly. "I can just imagine the greetings we'll get from your carrier when we reach him."

"So can I," Sheerwing murmured, long, too-slender looking fingers playing along Kaleidoscope's welds and protoform lines. "What about greeting him as bonded mates?"

Kaleidoscope's optics widened, his helm coming up to stare at Sheerwing for a long moment. Then shock melted into stunned agreement, the Kaonite's field licking out to wrap around his lover's. "I like the sound of that, very much."

"Good," Sheerwing purred, leaning down to kiss him soundly. "Because I like the sound of it too. It's amazing how clear some things become when you're sure you're about to expire." His glossa licked out to caress protoform lips. "Maybe even have a creation to introduce too."

"Not sure I'll be ready for a creation before we arrive," the usually blue and black flier replied. "But still, a very tempting thought. Might give him a CPU glitch." A mischievous grin flitted over Kaleidoscope's features.

"I'm sure bonded will do just fine," Sheerwing grinned and kissed him.

Kaleidoscope returned the kiss, working his fingers gently into Sheerwing's protoform. "Sounds very good to me."

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Dai Atlas' comm pinged with an incoming message from the control center of the Citadel. ::Dai Atlas, we're detecting a ship approaching. From the sensor image, it looks Cybertronian.::

::Lower the city and keep a sensor on it,:: he ordered quickly. ::If it's just passing by we'll let it be.::

Moments later, another ping reached the blue Knight's comm, this one older and very familiar, a ping he hadn't thought he'd receive again despite promises to the contrary.

::Mentor?:: he opened the channel, in enough shock that he froze in the sparring ring.

::Hello again,:: Titanium replied. ::That's my ship you're probably detecting on your sensors. I'm here to keep a promise I made to you before all Pit broke loose on Cybertron.::

Axe tilted his helm, looking at his mate oddly. "Dai?"

::Control, cancel the decent. That's a friendly coming in. Titanium.:: He reported before looking at his mate. "He's back," came out barely more than a stunned whisper. ::Have you picked up the city yet?:: he asked his mentor.

::Titanium's coming?:: The mech on duty audibly perked up. The ancient triple changer was remembered fondly by all of the remaining Knights.

::Yes,:: Dai smiled at the reaction.

::Just coming into sensor range,:: was the response after a moment. ::I have passengers on board, three of them, and I vouch for all of them. I wouldn't allow anyone who might be dangerous to come.::

::Very well,:: Dai Atlas responded. ::Anyone I know of?::

::No one you've met before. And one of them is my own mate.:: There was a huge grin audible in the words, and silver-and-purple armor was probably fluffed up even though Dai Atlas couldn't see it.

::Your mate?:: Dai Atlas perked up, saying it out loud for Axe's benefit. ::How'd you ever find us?::

::Same way you told me to.:: Mischief could be heard in the words. ::I followed the bond. There were a few detours, but that couldn't be avoided.::

Axe's optics gleamed. "Titan's got himself a mate?"

Dai Atlas didn't hear him as every cable in his frame went taut. ::_HOW_?::

::I followed the creator bond,:: Titanium repeated.

::_To_ what?:: Dai Atlas roared in pain. ::He deactivated with his ship over Cybertron.::

::Dai, Sheerwing inherited military-grade armor from you and Axe, and sheer bloody-minded tenacity from you and me. If anyone could survive that explosion, he could. Sheerwing is very much functional, though he was badly injured and still needs major repairs. You'll see him when we land. Just don't pounce on him... His armor was pretty mangled when we retrieved him, and we had no means of replacing it.:: There was a moment of silence. ::He led us here.::

Dai Atlas fell silent, trembling as he dared nudge the spot in his spark that had so long been painfully silent. ~Sheer?~

~Carrier!~ came the reply. ~I'm back... I came home.~

~How ... why didn't you prod me earlier?~ he tried to keep the hurt out of the joy, but couldn't.

Sheepishness echoed back. ~I'm sorry, carrier. I didn't think to. The bond had been dormant for so long, and I've been in repairs since Titan found me.~ The feeling of a wince trickled through.

~How are you though, other than needing repairs?~ he asked quietly, his entire frame trembling as he tried to absorb the news.

~Aside from the physical, I'm fine. Better than fine. Kaleidoscope also survived the explosion, because of his heavy Kaonite armor, and he's my bondmate now.~ There was pride in Sheerwing's thoughts.

~Dai!~ Axe grabbed his mate's arm, looking up into stunned red optics. ~What's going on? Dai!~

~Sheerwing ... he's on the ship. Bonded to Kal,~ he stammered on the bond with his mate, leaning into the contact. ~He's alive. They're alive. All this time, in stasis, drifting with the ship.~

Axe wrapped his arms tightly around Dai Atlas' frame, supporting the larger mech. Happiness flooded along their bond. ~Sheer... He's alive...~

::And not just Sheerwing,:: Titanium chose that moment to add. ::There are forty-seven surviving Knights on board, all but Sheer in deep stasis and needing major rebuilds. In many cases the damage is so bad it's almost physically impossible to tell who they are, but all of them carry Great Swords. We also found three other surviving civilians besides Kal, but most of the civilians were far too lightly armored to survive the destruction of their ships, much less millennia drifting in space. We're also bringing one hundred and sixty-two Great Swords retrieved from space, and as many of the deactivated as we could find.::

::Thank you,:: Dai Atlas whispered, unable to find any better words to express his gratitude at all that had been returned to him. ::Thank you.::

::You are most welcome,:: Titanium murmured back.

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Wing was all but dancing with excited nerves, getting odd looks from his mate. The white jet's attention was on the massive Cybertronian ship coming in for a landing on the outskirts of the city, along with the attention of everyone else. Nearly the entire population of the Citadel had gathered, ready to welcome home their lost brethren and bring those requiring repair off the ship. Redline, upon hearing the scale of the task awaiting him, had grumbled about the sheer amount of work but immediately began gathering supplies and anyone with medical training to assist.

Sand blew in all directions as the _Stellar Wind_ set down, the massive engines powering down, metal creaking in protest as the landing struts took the weight of the hull. There was a pause as everyone waited for the sand to settle, then the main hatch opened.

As per protocol, Titanium was the first to step out as both commander of the vessel and as the only one anyone knew. At least the only one who had his full armor. The grins and cheering calls from many Knights greeted him warmly, but it was the white bolt that nearly knocked him on his aft that was his first real welcome.

Titanium looked slightly different than he had the last time the Knights had seen him, no doubt due to changes of alt mode during his time as an Autobot. Some things, like the golden pseudo-hair that hung down his back and the swordhilts rising over his shoulders, hadn't changed. The greatest visible difference was the plate of purple metal, matching the rest of his armor, that had been bolted over his right optic.

The big mech laughed out loud, grabbing the edge of the hatch frame to keep from being knocked over. "Hello to you, too, Wing!" He nuzzled the white jet, hand coming up to rub between slender white wings. "I missed you."

"Is my brother really on board? Who's your mate? Are you really here to stay?" Wing trilled as a white grounder bearing a Great Sword stalked up. ~Relax, will you. He's my creator's mentor, that's all.~ "That's Drift, my mate."

"He's really on board, and he'll be out shortly," Titanium confirmed. "Yes, as I promised before you left Cybertron, when I myself was done with war, I would come to stay." Getting his balance back, he shifted so that Wing could see the bright golden mech who had appeared out of the ship, standing chest-high to the big triple changer. "This is my bonded mate, GoldenRod."

GoldenRod inclined his helm and tilted his spoiler in greeting, looking at the white jet with curious interest. "So you're Wing? I've heard a great deal about you. It's good to finally meet you."

Titanium turned his helm to fix his single optic on Drift. "Congratulations on finding your mate, Wing. Greetings, Drift. I am Titanium, Wing's uncle, I guess you could say."

"I've heard entirely too much about you," the grounder grunted, then grinned. "Including some wild stories about mopping the floor with our dear Sovereign."

"He'll do that soon enough," Dai Atlas grunted before he stepped up to clasp his mentor's shoulder, then leaned forward to rest their forehelms together. "It's good to have you back. And to come bearing such gifts," he raised his helm to look further into the ship, looking for his creation.

Titanium grinned at Drift. "I'll be proving those stories once everyone's over the shock." He wrapped his free arm around Dai Atlas' shoulders, humming softly. "It's good to be back, to see you again. And when have you ever known me to come to the Citadel empty-handed?"

"Never," Dai Atlas admitted, a shiver passing down his frame as he welcomed his oldest friend.

There was movement behind the elder triple changer, and Titanium sidestepped to clear the hatch as Sheerwing emerged. The younger mech's frame was wrapped in fabric to keep the sand at bay, emphasizing that he had almost no armor on his protoform, only his hands and helm free. His face and helm plating showed signs of the terrible damage he'd suffered, as well as the repair work that had been done to get him on his pedes. Deep red optics lifted to meet Dai Atlas'. "Carrier."

"Sheerwing," Dai Atlas murmured, shifting his full attention to his middle creation. Out of respect for Sheerwing's well known aversion to familiar contact and his state of repairs, Dai Atlas only touched forehelms with him. "It is good to have you back. You and the others will be repaired and introduced to what we've built."

"But for now, _I_ have work to do," Redline's voice cut through the greetings. "Walking wounded, follow me. Titanium, show my aides where those in stasis are. We have a lot of work ahead of us."

A second fabric-draped frame appeared, grinning irrepressibly up at Dai Atlas. "It's good to see you again, Dai. And it'll be even better to have armor again."

"I am sure," Dai Atlas smiled at his creation's mate. "It will be good to have your skills available once more."

Titanium nodded, shifting Wing up onto his shoulder while pinging a command to the ship's computer. The cargo hatches opened, ramps lowering, granting access to the other Knights. "Bay One is regular cargo, which can go into the stores of city or Citadel, for later use. Bay Two contains the frames of the deactivated, as well as all the Great Swords we managed to retrieve." Long wings ruffled as something brushed against his shin. "Oh, right. Dai!"

"This would be one of the passengers you are vouching for," Dai Atlas looked down at the movement. "Who would you be?"

"Dai, these are Mirage and Spindrift. They would like to petition for residency." Titanium indicated each, the small amber-and-green mech standing next to him, and the blue and white mech who had just emerged from the ship.

"A noble?" Dai Atlas' optic ridge rose. "House of Swift Sky, if I'm any judge."

"Mirage," he sang his full, formal designation as it was before the war. "Yes, though I understand that matters little here."

"We have no nobility here, no ruling class," Dai Atlas said firmly. "You will work as we all do."

"I have long become accustomed to hard work, Sovereign," Mirage inclined his helm respectfully in submission.

"Good," he grunted. "Thorn!" his voice rose to carry through the crowd, drawing the tall black Knight forward. "Mirage will be in your custody until Titanium is settled. Mirage," he focused down at the light blue and white mech. "I expect you to remain visible at all times until you are a citizen of New Crystal City."

"Understood and accepted," Mirage inclined his helm once more.

"Spindrift," Dai Atlas focused on his other unbonded newcomer. "You will stay with Dart for the next few orns."

The silver-opticked mech nodded, looking to the Knight in question. "I will, sir."

"Spin's a unique Cybertronian; the Autobot medics and scientists had all sorts of fits over him." Titanium nudged Spindrift, the unexpected movement causing the startled mech to break into his separate components for a moment, then reform, looking sheepish.

An impatient sound from Redline made the big triple changer grin, leading the medical team into the ship, to the deck where the other survivors had been placed. The three civilians were in the medical bay, along with as many of the Knights as would fit. The others had been secured in the empty passenger quarters. Their frames were blackened and burned, twisted into odd and awkward positions, armor fused into solid masses by the heat of the explosion. Some parts had been cut free to give access to the internal systems, so that monitoring equipment could be attached.

It was as ugly as anyone there had seen.

"What a mess," Dai Atlas shook his helm. "But for now, you," he fixed his optics on his mentor and grabbed his arm. "We have much catching up to do."

"Have fun." GoldenRod looked over at them, winking one bright blue optic before turning back to his conversation with Redline, comparing notes and exchanging data.

The elder triple changer chuckled. "A great deal of catching up," he agreed, reaching up to scratch between Wing's wings as he allowed Dai Atlas to tug him out of the ship. Once outside, he quickly dislodged the white jet from his shoulder, putting the small mech down next to Drift.

"I don't think you want to be between them as they catch up," Drift smirked at his mate.

"No he doesn't," Dai Atlas smirked over his shoulder at the mech he was still not on good terms with. His focus turned to his mentor. "I think you'll like it here, once you get used to the utter lack of use for our primary function."

"Nothing wrong with not having to fight. It'll be a relief, actually." Titanium stepped around behind Dai Atlas, settling on the blue mech's right side, so he could actually see the other mech. "I've seen entirely too much fighting."

"When Redline is done with the critical injuries, he'll see to your optic," Dai Atlas leaned against his mentor. "If you've had it long enough to have a patch, it'll save for a few more vorns."

"My self-repair's already cut off and rerouted all the feeds. It's an old wound... Happened a century or so after you left. Not much left to repair, and I just never bothered." Titanium wrapped an arm around Dai Atlas' shoulders, tilting his helm to take in the view as they walked. "What you've built here is incredible."

"Thank you. It took a lot of work by a lot of mecha," he smiled slightly, his manner relaxing in Titanium's presence in a way few got to witness. "I expect Redline can still fix your optic, if you want him to. Such things weren't always beyond our medicine. We saved all of it, and we've advanced it."

"I'll consider it, once all the surviving Knights are back on their pedes and fully repaired." The elder nodded in response to a friendly greeting, tilting his helm to take in the gleaming city towers. "It's been a long time now since I've been in an intact Cybertronian city. Cybertron is in ruins, almost all of the cities leveled. The planet is dying. I couldn't stay there anymore."

"We both knew it was going to happen," Dai Atlas sighed and pulled away to lift off for his balcony. "Cybertron couldn't sustain itself the way the Golden Age was running."

"Only too true." Titanium shook himself, armor fluffing and resettling. "I'd rather not think about it. I'm far more interested in catching up with you... I've missed you and the others."

When their pedes touched down Dai Atlas grabbed his mentor and claimed a fierce kiss. "I missed you more than I could stand. You have no idea how hard it's been coming to terms with Wing's choice of mates. I needed your ability to make me see reason."

Purring softly, the older mech returned the kiss, running one palm over blue armor, refamiliarizing himself with the planes and angles. "It's never easy when a creation takes a mate the creators don't approve of. But he bears a Great Sword, which I have been told can't happen if the mech is not worthy to bear one."

Dai Atlas sighed in a mixture of pleasure, relief and agreement before tugging his mentor towards the berth room. "That was when I could finally look him in the optic and not want to crush him."

"Which Wing is no doubt glad for." Titanium followed the tug, his hand sliding up Dai Atlas' shoulder to brush lightly against the back of his neck and helm. "Drift is a Knight, and he bears a Great Sword. Wing will be a good influence on him, help to smooth out the rough edges. He'll settle down with time."

"He'll settle down as well as I have, at best," Dai Atlas huffed even as he leaned into the touch. "But he is a Knight, and I can not deny the truth of that. Even if I still don't _like_ him." With an easy swivel he relaxed back on the berth and drew Titanium down on top of him. Strong white hands ran along slightly altered but intimately familiar armor. "I have missed you desperately."

"He'll grow on you. Eventually." Titanium grinned at his former student, armor flaring out, allowing white fingers to slip underneath. "I've missed you, too, more than you could know." Leaning down to nip and nuzzle at the blue mech's neck and jawline, murmuring a sentence in ancient Cybertronian.

Dai Atlas shuddered at the touch and whispered words, the promise they contained. Without even thinking a matching oath, of loyalty and devotion that went beyond bonded mates, escaped Dai Atlas' vocalizer. His entire frame relaxed into eager, willing submission as he arched up, scraping their frames together. Touches became more eager as Dai Atlas unlocked his black chest plates, the heaviest armor on his powerful frame, to expose the pulsing red star that sustained him.

Titanium's cockpit split and folded back, complex armor plates pulling aside, white light leaking through. The silver and purple mech leaned in for a deep, thorough kiss, shifting his weight slightly to free one hand, running fingers and palm over a long white and blue wing. His spark casing irised open, releasing sparkling threads of white, reaching out to stroke over Dai Atlas' spark chamber.

The blue giant nearly keened at the first touch, his chamber spiraling open in an effort to avoid having its prisoner break out. Red tendrils exploded outward to wrap the white orb in ribbons of energy and pulling it forward. Their coronas laced together, the merge progressing so fast it was more pain than pleasure. Yet Dai Atlas could not find himself to object. He needed the merge far more than he needed it to feel good.

Long purple-and-gold-streaked wings flared wide, shivering from the tips down, a moan escaping the older mech. White threads and ribbons spun out to wrap around the red spark, the two merging into a single orb of gleaming pink, merged as deeply as they could get without forming a bond between them. Emotions flowed freely back and forth, expressing just how much the two mechs had missed each other, and just how overwhelmingly glad they were to see each other again.

Dai Atlas keened and thrust his chest upward. From top to bottom his memory cores opened, reveling in this contact with the mech who had always been the cornerstone of his existence. Despite how pleasurable and passionate their merges often were, this time it was about catching up and reassuring their sparks that this was indeed the one they had longed to have close once more.

Titanium's memory cores opened in response, memories flowing between them, so closely entwined it was hard to tell where one ended and the other began. The older triple changer radiated amusement as his own mate used the opportunity to send a quick comment to Axe through Titanium and Dai Atlas' merged sparks, getting a laugh from the black and gold Knight.

~Missed you. So glad you are here,~ Dai Atlas whispered across the merge before it drove him fully into overload.

~Missed you so much,~ Titanium murmured in response. ~Glad to be here. Nowhere else I would rather be.~

Then overload crashed over him, his single optic flaring white, energy snapping over his frame. For a long klik his frame locked up as excess charge cascaded through his systems. Once his joints unlocked, his spark chamber and chestplates once again closed, he eased himself down onto the berth next to his former student, leaning his helm against Dai Atlas' shoulder. His last thought before settling into a light recharge was that he had at last come home.


	26. The First Sparkling

Fandom: Transformers G1  
Author: gatekat, ultrarodimus on LJ  
Pairing: Axe/Dai Atlas, Drift/Wing, Kaleidoscope/Sheerwing  
Rating: NC-17  
Codes: Knights of Light, AU, Sticky, Spark, Bondage, Mechpreg

**Kneeling to the Sword 26: The First Sparkling**  
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Kaleidoscope flared blue-tipped and blue-trimmed black wings, smiling devilishly down at his bound mate. Nimble fingers darted into armor seams, teasing at the most sensitive wires and sensor nodes, tweaking and tugging lightly at the circuitry. Leaning down, the black and blue flier trailed lips and glossa over Sheerwing's pelvic armor, glossa darting into the larger mech's hip joint. Playful yellow optics lifted to meet deep red as the bound mech shuddered and keened.

"You're cruel," Sheerwing whined as he shivered and thrust his hips upwards. With both spike and valve cover open, both eager to be used, it was only a question of what his bondmate would do to drive him to bliss.

"You know you love it," the smaller mech crooned back, his grin widening. Flicking his wings teasingly, Kaleidoscope slithered down to run his glossa tormenting slowly over the platelets of his mate's valve. Hot air puffed from the armorer's vents, sliding along Sheerwing's plating and into the seams.

Each touch made Sheerwing's vents hitch and another moan escape his vocalizer. "Please... So slick for you."

"Do tell, beloved." Kaleidoscope flicked his audial vanes, working the tip of his glossa slowly through the platelets, savoring the taste of the lubricant. One hand slid down a powerful leg, fingers sliding into the joint, teasing the gyros. "Tell me what you want."

The giant's entire frame arched as valve calipers tried to capture the glossa flicking just inside the rim. "Want your spike. Spread me wide. Fill me the way only you can. Let me feel the energy crackling from your spike as your transfluid rushes into me."

Purring, Kaleidoscope leaned closer, closing his lips on the rim of Sheerwing's valve and sucking lightly. "I like the sound of that," he rumbled against lubricant-slick metal. "But I'm not finished... playing with you yet." His glossa slid in deeper, flicking teasingly at a sensor node.

A full frame shudder passed through Sheerwing at the stimulation. As much as he loved to be an active participant, there was an intensity to being forced to be utterly passive. To knowing, right to his core, that his pleasure was dependent on the whim of the mech he was with.

Another lick deeper inside his valve and Sheerwing keened loudly, trying to grind his hips against his bonded's face.

"Please, babe!" Sheerwing howled, his frame shaking. "Take me, for Primus' sake."

Optics sparkling teasingly, Kaleidoscope worked his glossa deeper, as deep as he could, poking almost daintily at the deepest node he could reach before slowly, teasingly slowly, withdrawing, glossa stroking over every sensor node in its path. "You want me to spike you, love?"

"Yes!" Sheerwing howled, his hips rolling into the touch as much as they could and valve calipers cycling as his entire frame struggled against his bonds. "Please. Want you so bad."

Chuckling, the smaller mech withdrew his glossa from his mate's valve, flicking it teasingly against the larger triple changer's spike housing to cause another full-frame jerk and whine of desperation. Grinning at Sheerwing, he slid closer, slowly grinding his hips against his mate's. "Your wish is my command, my love."

"Kal..." Sheerwing whined, his tone pleading and his entire frame trembling. He felt so _empty_. His valve was too slick, the lining pulsing in anticipation of the slide of a spike that felt impossibly good.

"Yes, love?" Kaleidoscope fluttered his wings, tilting his helm teasingly to the side, continuing to grind his hips slowly against his larger mate's.

"Spike me already!" he howled, writhing and fighting the restraints in an effort to reach his mate. "Fill me. _Need_ you!"

A low chuckle answered the howl as Kaleidoscope finally obliged, releasing his spike. He spent a klik teasing Sheerwing by rubbing his tip against lubricant-slick platelets, then pushed through them, slowly, slowly sliding his spike into his lover's valve. Once fully sheathed in the larger mech, Kaleidoscope leaned down to kiss his mate, glossa flicking against the larger deep purple mech's lips. They opened obediently, the needy rumble vibrating between them as Sheerwing's glossa snaked out to caress Kaleidoscope's.

~Never get enough of you,~ Sheerwing gasped across their bond, still fresh at less than a hundred vorns old but strong and passionate with their love.

~Can never get enough of you,~ Kaleidoscope purred in response. ~You've got me thoroughly addicted to every part of you.~

The black and blue mech settled into a steady rhythm, the movement slow at first, gradually working his way up to the hard, fast pace the larger mech preferred. When he'd first come to the Citadel on Cybertron, Kaleidoscope had despaired at ever finding a lover he wouldn't have to be _careful_ with. Not once in those early vorns of enjoying this well-armored giant did he think they would reach this point; bonded and as deeply in love as the triple-changer's carrier and his mate.

Under him Sheerwing keened and writhed, his hips jerking sharply into each thrust as valve calipers cycled, scraping sensitive lining against sensitive spike.

It felt _so_ good.

A moan escaped the smaller mech's vocalizer. He leaned down to nip at Sheerwing's throat cables and collar armor, shifting his weight to free one hand and reach for a wide wing. Blue-streaked fingers hunted out every sensor node, tracing the leading edges and the seams, the armorer's hand curling around the edge of the wing and squeezing gently but firmly. Kaleidoscope shifted his hips, the tip of his spike striking against the dense cluster of sensors at the end of Sheerwing's valve.

The giant under him bucked hard and screamed. Every caliper in his valve cycled closed, hugging the spike tightly as energy crackled over Sheerwing's frame, though his circuits and leapt into Kaleidoscope at every point of contact.

Sheerwing's overload set off Kaleidoscope's, the smaller mech letting out a keen as transfluid erupted from his spike, filling his lover's valve. Charge sizzled over his plating, leaping off onto Sheerwing as the pleasure ricocheted back and forth through their bond, washing over both of them and temporarily drowning out any ability to think even remotely clearly.

They remained, locked in the overload's embrace, for an exquisite klik before Kaleidoscope slowly began to sink down on top of his shuddering love.

Gradually deep red optics brightened to take in the sight he never tired of. ~You're beautiful like that.~

The black and blue flier's smile was bright, warm yellow optics lifting to meet Sheerwing's red. ~As are you,~ he murmured in response. ~But then, to me you're always stunning.~ Not bothering to remove his spike from Sheerwing's valve, Kaleidoscope settled down on top of the larger mech, feeling the pulse of his mate's strong spark through thick plate armor.

~You always flatter me,~ Sheerwing chuckled softly. ~Can I hold you now?~

~For as long as you want, my love.~ Kaleidoscope shifted to release the restraints, snuggling closer to his mate and venting a contented sigh as large, strong arms wrapped around him.

A deep, soft rumble vibrated their plating once more. ~You know, we're both fully repaired, the bond's stable ... our sparks are strong.~

Audial flares twitched curiously as Kaleidoscope tilted his helm. ~All true. What are you thinking, lover of mine?~

Instead of words a series of image-feelings cross the bond. A tiny spark orbiting a larger one. The first sight of a sparkling crawling from its carrier's abdomen. Watching his little sister grow and learn to fly, but overlaid with an image of what _their_ sparkling might look like.

Kaleidoscope's purr made his frame vibrate. ~I remember you mentioned that the orn you asked me to bond with you. At the time we were in no condition and not in the right environment to raise a little one, but now... You're right, we're both healthy and strong, and we have all the resources available.~ He fluttered a wing. ~I would love a sparkling of our own.~

Their lips met against in a warm kiss that was more affection than passion. ~Then let's start the process when the Office of Sparkling Affairs opens in the morning.~

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"Hello," a sweet voice matched to an equally sweet frame of white, silver and pale blue that stepped halfway out of his office in the central government tower of New Crystal City. As half of the Office of Sparkling Affairs, he knew every sparkling and creator in the city personally and took great delight that his duties consisted almost completely of approving applications of long-term couples and almost nothing of the work he used to do in the Office of Sparkling Affairs in Praxus. "Sheerwing, Kaleidoscope, if you'd join me we can talk about your application."

"Of course." Kaleidoscope inclined his helm, tugging lightly on his mate's hand. Eagerness vibrated through their bond, matching the slight quiver of blue-tipped wings. Sheerwing followed, one optic on the frame of the door, not wanting to run into it. Mecha of his frame size were not common in the city, so not many structures were built to accommodate the bigger mechs easily.

"Please, make yourselves comfortable. I'm Sidewind. I will be handling your case," the lightly armored Praxian smiled at the much heavier pair. "Now. Sheerwing, you are a Knight of Light. What rank?"

"I am a Senior Knight," Sheerwing replied, settling carefully onto a chair. "Not yet Master rank."

"Do you currently have an Initiate, or prospective one?" Sidewind asked politely. "If you have a sparkling it would be unsuitable for you to take one on until it has its final upgrades."

The deep purple triple changer shook his helm. "I have no one in mind as a potential Initiate, nor have I been seriously looking for one."

"Good, then you have a thousand vorns to devote to a sparkling," he smiled warmly and shifted focus to Kaleidoscope. "You are a metal crafter?" he gave the Kaonite an appraising look. "I'm going to guess you were an armorer and weaponsmith before the PR title change."

Kaleidoscope nodded. "I am, yes. I forge armor and swords for the Knights. I also repair damaged weapons and armor."

Sidewind nodded and tapped on his datapad. "Both of your reports of income are on the lower end, however, your functions and duties are stable, well-established and not at risk. Is there anything you wish to add about your financial situation?"

"All the information we have, we gave to you. There's nothing else to add," Sheerwing responded.

"Have you spoken to your kin? I understand your carrier is the Sovereign of Light, and his mentor is Titanium." He looked between the couple.

"Titanium is also my sire," Sheerwing added, noting Sidewind's surprise. "We haven't spoken to them yet." He looked at his mate. "We wanted to surprise them."

The Praxian chuckled. "Trying to melt your carrier's processors, mmm?"

"Something like that." Kaleidoscope's grin hinted at mischief.

"How long have you been planning to raise a sparkling?" Sidewind smiled, secretly approving of anything that might shock some good humor into the cranky giant.

"The subject actually came up the orn Sheer asked me to bond with him, while we were still partially repaired and armorless en route to the city," the Kaonite replied. "But at the time we were in no condition to create or raise a sparkling, so it was put on hold until we got here and were fully repaired."

"I see Redline gave you both full medical clearance some time ago, confirmation that your bond is strong and stable," Sidewind nodded. "Have you decided who is going to try to carry?"

"I am." Kaleidoscope flared his wings, puffing up his armor slightly.

Sidewind nodded again and scrolled through several screens worth of data. "Why? As the larger mech, Sheerwing has less chance of something going wrong."

"Dai Atlas was... an extremely aggressive and volatile carrier. If Sheer takes after him, there is a very good possibility that his temper could be just as bad." Kaleidoscope ruffled his armor. "And I _want_ to carry this sparkling."

The triple changer nodded. "I inherited a great deal from my carrier, including a penchant for explosive rage. I know from Starspark that my sparkling protective protocols are more than strong enough to make me safe around our creation. That is not always true for those around me that I view as equals."

"And you," Sidewind looked at Kaleidoscope. "Do you have any experience with sparklings?"

"Does Wing count?" The black and blue flier chuckled. "Sheer and I were already involved when Starspark came along, and in the Citadel everyone helps raise a sparkling. When I lived in Kaon, one of my neighbors had twins, and my creators often sparkling-sat for them."

"Good, then you have some idea what you're getting into." Sidewind nodded with evident relief. "And yes, Wing does count to a point," he added with a snicker. "How is everyone's favorite adult sparking and his growling mate?"

Sheerwing grinned. "As bouncy as ever, and just as likely to jump on the closest family member despite Drift's growling. Wing is Wing and likely will never change."

"It's good that he hasn't changed much," Sidewind smiled fondly. "He's been in here twice about permits for a sparkling, but he could never convince his mate to come. They will make a lovely and likely a balanced creation together when he's finally ready."

"Drift being Drift, that's likely to take a long time," Kaleidoscope replied. He looked over at Sheerwing briefly. ~I'll have to ask Axe if he got any image captures of Drift's expression the first time he saw Wing climbing all over Dai's frame.~

~I'm sure it's somewhere between shock and awe,~ his mate laughed at the idea-image. ~Only Wing can get away with that, and Drift's still just a tiny bit afraid of our dear creator.~

~Can you blame him?~ The smaller mech's grin was bright, then he turned his attention back to Sidewind. "Both of us have had experience with sparklings, and we will be surrounded by mecha we can ask for help when we need it."

"Good," he nodded. "What have you done, or planned, to prepare your apartment for a sparkling, or what could likely be twins?"

"Both of us are fliers, so we have an upper-level apartment with doors on the balcony, and we have plenty of processors we can pick to help us get it properly sparkling-proofed. Our sparkling - or sparklings - will never be left alone." Blue-trimmed black armor flared.

Sidewind stood smoothly and retrieved a datapad from his desk. "This will get you started. The most useful section is likely to be '_How To Keep Your Sparkling From Jumping Off The Balcony_'," he chuckled and tossed the pad to Kaleidoscope. "Another good section covers how to cope with a moody carrier," he flicked a wing playfully at Sheerwing.

"That might come in very handy," the Knight agreed, chuckling at the huff he got from his mate as Kaleidoscope accepted the datapad. "Thank you."

"You are welcome. I can find no reason to deny your request," he smiled and sat back down. "Just remember, we're here as a resource. You are not flagged for asking for help. We learned long ago that the couples who ask for help before things become a big problem are among those most likely to raise well adjusted and productive members of society. As a Knight I realize you will have far more helping hands than most, but don't be strangers here. You or your sparkling."

Both mechs nodded to him in response. "We will remember that. If we need help, we will ask for it. Thank you."

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Kaleidoscope walked into Redline's medical bay, his fingers firmly entwined with his mate's. The black and blue mech had been feeling odd for several orns and figured it was time to make an appointment with the Citadel's CMO. He and Sheerwing had been trying hard to create a newspark, and both were hoping it had worked. The first time, almost a metacycle ago, had been a false alarm and driven the couple to ask if there was a reason they hadn't managed yet.

Redline wanted to laugh, but the pair were too distressed for it.

~Don't go there, love,~ Sheerwing nuzzled his mate's helm. ~Sooner or later it will work.~

~I know,~ Kaleidoscope murmured in response, pressing against deep purple armor. ~But I want it to have worked. I'm so nervous.~ His hand tightened on his mate's, then he looked up at Redline. The medic motioned him to the medberth.

"So what are your symptoms?" the medic that had seen the kindling and separation of each of Dai Atlas' descendants smiled gently.

"There's a strange feeling in my spark," the Kaonite answered, settling onto the medical berth. "Not something I've ever felt before. And a slight energy drain."

"You've increased your energon consumption to compensate?" he asked, hooking Kaleidoscope up to many scanners while his giant mate hovered protectively without getting in the way.

Kaleidoscope nodded. "I've increased my energon intake, yes." He reached out for Sheerwing's hand again, tilting his helm to look at the monitors. "It took me an orn or so to figure out why I was tiring so fast."

"You've still been actively trying to kindle since your last visit?"

"Yes, often," Sheerwing squeezed his mate's hand, his wings quivering in excitement and hope.

"Very often." There was a purr in Kaleidoscope's voice. Hope threaded through the bond, his grip tightening on Sheerwing's hand.

The medic hummed and studied the readouts, then nodded and smiled, his field expressing his growing excitement. "If you'd open your spark chamber so I can see?"

"Yes, of course." Blue-trimmed black armor plates folded back to expose the armorer's spark chamber, the crystalline chamber opening to bare the lilac spark for inspection. He felt a sharp spike of excitement from his mate before Redline's smile turned into a grin.

"You can close it now," the medic chuckled. "Congratulations. You are going to be raising a trine."

Sheerwing's excitement turned to shock as the larger mech rocked slightly.

Yellow optics widened. "A _trine_? Three newsparks?" His grip on Sheerwing's hand tightened enough to make the metal of his mate's fingers creak as he craned his neck, trying to peer into his own chest cavity. Shock flooded through the bond that was echoing it both ways.

"A trine?" Sheerwing repeated his mate's query.

"Yes, a trine. Three," Redline chuckled at them. "I'd have been less surprised if it was Sheerwing carrying, but it seems that you're going to have three fast little fliers, and one _very_ trying carry. One sparkling would ground you. Three are likely to all but incapacitate you during the last phase. Even small, that will add up to more than half your total mass in extra."

"I'm going to look like a bulk cargo shuttle by the end of it." There was a hint of amusement under the shock as Kaleidoscope digested that. "And I'm going to have to have someone on permanent fetch-and-carry duty for the last couple metacycles." Slowly, he sat up. "This is... more than we had hoped."

"The dangers?" Sheerwing asked, joy and shock and worry warring for control.

"The greatest will be Kaleidoscope's ability to support all three newsparks and their frames, particularly in the later stages," Redline went serious. "Given your recent sparkline history of creating newsparks that can not be supported, it is a real concern."

Black and blue armor slicked tight to Kaleidoscope's frame. He was careful not to squeeze Sheerwing's hand any tighter, but his other hand was leaving dents in the edge of the medical berth. "I hope we beat the odds... If I feel _anything_ strange, I'll notify you immediately, Redline."

"Good," the medic nodded and pinged them both with a large file. "That will give you the pattern of needs to expect. You'll have a very high energon draw and the supplements to match. I'm hoping these turn out to be light frames, but given their heritage I rather doubt it. Neither of your lines are prone to light builds."

Kaleidoscope hummed, tagging the file as high priority in his databanks. "Thank you. And no, neither of us comes from a line of light builds." He lifted his hand to touch the armor over his spark chamber. "Definitely going to be a complicated carrying. But... also so worth it." ~And I look forward to seeing your carrier's face when we tell him, love.~

~And sire's.~ "Yes," Sheerwing smiled, his voice a deepening rumble of anticipation. "We want to tell everyone, okay?"

"Sure, as long as it's soon," Redline did laugh. "Go on and melt your carrier's processors."

Anticipation threaded through the bond. ~This is going to be fun. Where is Dai right now?~ Kaleidoscope slid off the table, surrendering to impulse and pouncing on his mate for an enormous hug. Turning his helm, he grinned at Redline. "If Dai passes out from the shock, you're our first call."

"Good, because Axe will be laughing too hard to be of _any_ use," the medic gave them a wicked grin and shooed them on their way.

"No doubt." The black and blue mech finally let go of Sheerwing, taking his mate's hand and twining their fingers together. ~Let's go find your carrier, shall we, love?~

~He's in the council chamber,~ Sheerwing replied after a moment as they walked out. ~Want to catch him in there, or wait until he's in public?~

The grin his mate gave him dripped mischief. ~The more witnesses to this, the better, I think. Council chamber. Closer to the medical wing, in case Dai really short circuits.~

Sheerwing laughed and pinged Axe for permission to bring his mate into the space that was typically reserved for Knights.

::I know you wouldn't ask without a good reason... Might I have a hint, or would you rather surprise me?:: Axe responded, giving his permission for Sheerwing to bring Kaleidoscope into the chamber.

::You'll know soon enough,:: Sheerwing snickered, showing his mate into the small circular room and into the focused attention of all twenty-three Knights currently seated there. "My friends, it is no secret that my mate and I have been trying to kindle for more than a metacycle. Just now Redline confirmed that we succeeded. My dear mate Kaleidoscope is carrying a full trine."

There was an immediate silence as all of the Knights gawked at the pair. Kaleidoscope puffed out his armor proudly, grinning brightly at all of the Knights, his optics flicking over to fix on the Sovereign.

"A _trine_?" Axe repeated, blue optics wide. "You sparked a full _trine_ with him?" The black and gold Knight looked over at his mate when he felt Dai Atlas begin to go silent, even over the bond after the first burst of _joy-shock_.

"Yep," Sheerwing's grin got even broader before he snickered and looked at his carrier. "He still with us?"

"Yes," Dai Atlas made a visible effort to pull himself together. "That is wonderful news. Redline is sure they are healthy, and small?"

"They are healthy, and right now they are small," Kaleidoscope replied. "Though they probably won't stay small, considering that neither side of their lineage is at all noted for light frames or small mechs." He tilted his helm to indicate Sheerwing's size, then waved a hand to indicate his own. "By the time they're ready to separate I'm going to look like a freight shuttle and be all but immobile."

Murmurs swept through the assembled Knights. Wing streaked over, completely forgetting decorum in favor of congratulating his younger brother.

Sheerwing chuckled and hugged Wing back, his natural standoffish behavior falling away for the moment. "Redline is well aware of the dangers and will be monitoring the newsparks carefully every six orns and if Kaleidoscope feels anything," he promised, well aware of where his carrier's questions were coming from. "We will be ready for anything that must happen." ~Not that anything will,~ he promised.

"It does mean that Sheerwing will be on special light duty for the second half of the carry," Redline spoke up as he entered the chamber. "It is more important that he attend to his mate and sparklings than to his duties to the Citadel. He is not being excused from his duties to the Order as they can be done within range of Kaleidoscope."

~I certainly hope not,~ the smaller mech replied, reaching over to tweak a white wingtip.

~We're going to be grand-creators, love,~ Axe murmured, reaching over to take Dai Atlas' hand, holding onto the edge of the table. He still couldn't quite believe it. He and Dai Atlas had raised many creations in their long existences, but the three newsparks Sheerwing and Kaleidoscope had created would be their very first grand-creations.

Other Knights were descending to the chamber floor to offer their congratulations, fields pulsing with excitement and happiness. These would be the first sparklings of a Knight since their arrival on Aelios and it was very welcome news in a society that had few bonded pairs and fewer who were inclined to kindle.

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Kaleidoscope shifted on the berth as much as he could, growling softly to himself. As expected, his abdomen had expanded enormously to contain the three growing protoforms, throwing his sense of balance right out the window and leaving him unable to move from the berth without his larger mate to lean on, or in the last metacycle, carry him. He did have a fairly steady stream of visitors when he was awake, making sure he didn't go completely stir-crazy.

Shifting another tiny increment and ruffling his wings under him, the black and blue flier tried to get comfortable. He'd just settled down when one of the protoforms in his torso shifted, and a separation warning popped up on his HUD. Kaleidoscope just stared at it for a moment. ~Sheer!~

~First warning?~ his mate called back as he darted into the room, a comm line with Redline already open.

~First warning. But only one of them is squirming and moving around.~ Nervousness filtered through the bond. Kaleidoscope reached out to grasp his mate's hand tightly.

A white streak wasn't far behind Sheerwing, having spotted his brother heading for home at full throttle. Perching somewhere out of the way, Wing settled in to watch. Their sister appeared next to him with a chirp.

"Redline said it was likely that Winddance would separate well before the others," Sheerwing tried to sooth his mate. "Redline is on his way. My creators will be here as soon as they can be. It'll be well before she's out though."

Black and blue armor quivered as Kaleidoscope did his best to calm down. His free hand wandered down to press against his torso armor, feeling the smallest of their three sparklings moving around faintly through the thick plating. "At least it'll be less crowded in there once she's out," he quipped, trying to make a joke of it.

Titanium was next to arrive, moving to stand by the wall, where he'd be out of the way but able to see everything. His shoulders were immediately occupied by the pair of small white jets, taking advantage of his height for better vantage points.

"Any errors?" Redline demanded as he strode into the room. "Who's giving a ping?"

"No errors, yet, and hopefully it'll stay that way," Kaleidoscope replied, his wings quivering as armor shifted slightly. "It's Winddance. She wants out, and _now_."

"She has a few joors left, and a lot of work ahead of her," Redline settled into his job easily. A detailed scan passed over Kaleidoscope's greatly extended abdominal cavity. "It might be easier to extract her from the side, or the back," the medic considered the arrangement thoughtfully.

A grunt escaped the Kaonite as the small femme thrashed, trying to get past the immobile forms of her two brothers. Frustration poured through the creator bond.

"Her brothers are in the way, and she is very unhappy about it," Kaleidoscope relayed, making a face.

The thunder of engines announced the arrival of Axe. Ruffling obsidian plating, the big black mech joined the others, blue gaze flicking from Kaleidoscope to Sheerwing to Redline.

"Kaleidoscope, try to get through to her that she needs to head toward your back," Redline said firmly. "I'm going to make an opening for her."

"If you can get me turned over, doc, it'll be just short of a miracle." Kaleidoscope tried to shift, emphasizing the fact that he was nearly completely incapable of moving on his own. Yellow optics went out of focus as he tried to get his daughter to shift.

"I think that between all of us big strong mechs, we can get you shifted," Titanium commented as he walked over, his two white shoulder jets peering at the proceedings with interest.

"You have more help than space for helpers," Axe chuckled as his mate landed on the balcony.

With a nod Sheerwing picked up his mate with the ease of practice, accepting the help of his creators in turning the vulnerable mech over, taking care not to jostle his valuable contents in the process. Kaleidoscope grunted softly as he was shifted, extending his wings in a much-needed stretch. Armor plates flared along his back and sides.

"Good, now shoo," Redline insisted as he stepped in to run a hand along Kaleidoscope lower back. "Tell me when I'm over her."

"Little lower... Over to the left a little... Right there." Under Redline's hand, something moved beneath thick plating as Winddance impressed upon her carrier that she wanted out _immediately_.

The other mecha obligingly, if reluctantly, got out of the way. Titanium handed Wing to Dai Atlas as the small white mech practically vibrated off the purple shoulder. Starspark clung on, her optics wide and fixed on her older brother's mate.

"This is going to hurt," Redline warned as he took out a plasma cutter. "Do try to convince her to get as close to your core as she can."

"I'll manage," the black and blue mech grunted, seizing and clutching his mate's hand. There was squirming under his armor, then Winddance pulled back, still radiating impatience.

"I know," Redline said evenly as he began to cut. Proximity sensors warned him of a grounder walking in, the size matching Wing's mate.

"Is that normal?" Drift's rough voice broke the general silence, and was directed at his mate.

Wing looked down from Dai Atlas' arms. "Not usually. But Kal is carrying a trine, and the smallest of the trio, their daughter, is ready for separation while her brothers aren't."

"And her brothers are between her and Kal's front." Titanium turned his helm to fix his optic on Drift, having never bothered to have his missing right optic repaired. "It's easier to make an opening in Kal's back so she can get out than try to shift her brothers and risk damaging them."

Kaleidoscope's hand tightened on the edge of the berth, a hiss of pain escaping. He took care not to crush his mate's fingers, instead leaving deep dents in the berth. Sheerwing crooned, trying to be soothing as he supported his mate every way he could think of.

Drift looked between Kaleidoscope, the hole being cut in Kaleidoscope's back and Wing and back again before addressing his mate. ~You are utterly and completely _insane_ for wanting to risk that. Count me out.~

~Chances of us creating more than one are very low,~ the young jet replied, blinking over at his mate. ~Just one wouldn't be so bad.~

Blue-tipped wings trembled, Kaleidoscope hissing in pain and discomfort. He did his very best to hold still, not wanting to budge and risk injuring his daughter.

Drift huffed, his gaze drawn back to Kaleidoscope as Redline drew the plasma torch away. ~I've seen torture session that didn't hurt that much.~

"Can she see light?" the medic asked.

As if in answer, there was the clear sound of scrabbling under the cut-away plating, and then a sharp chirp of frustration when the little femme couldn't crawl right out. Kaleidoscope peered back over his shoulder. "I'd take that as a 'yes'."

Redline chuckled and brightened the output of his optics to help light the hole while he worked to move cables, tubes and wiring out of her way. "Double check that all connections to her have successfully disengaged."

The Kaonite was silent for a long moment as he ran the checks. "They've all disengaged. She's ready to come out, once she gets past my systems."

The sounds of scrabbling and movement came closer, a small arm finally poking out through the gap in Kaleidoscope's plating. Tiny fingers grabbed at the edge of another plate, kicking and thrashing to try and fight free of the entangling wiring. A sharp, rude-sounding chitter emerged, accompanied by a mutter as small red optics glared out at whoever happened to be closest.

"Hold still and I'll free you," Redline told her in the hope that this would be a reasonable sparkling, unlike most of her known spark-kin. "You don't want to damage your brothers, do you?"

"Let me _out_!" was the sharp response, the little femme squirming emphatically. At the mention of her brothers, she subsided, grumbling impatiently, waiting for Redline to untangle the last bits of wiring between her and freedom.

"Climb up my arm," Redline crooned, trying to save her carrier from any additional damage from her kicking. "You should be free to move now."

Winddance lost no time in crawling out onto Kaleidoscope's back, her carrier peering over his shoulder in an attempt to see his daughter for the first time. "_Finally._ Have you _any_ idea how cramped it was in there, with those two lummoxes taking up all the space?" She shook herself, then paused to look around.

The little femme clearly took after her sire more than her carrier. She looked strikingly like her sire and grand-creator, with the nubs of what would become long, wide wings on her back and her helm already showing the buds of what would become a distinctive three-point crown, though slimmer and more delicate than her sire's.

~_That_ is a sparkling?~ Drift's tone was somewhere between incredulous and horrified as he stared at the tiny flier about a quarter his height. ~_That_ is what you want?~

~She's beautiful,~ Wing replied, staring at the newborn with bright optics. He shifted in Dai Atlas' arms, preparing to pounce when a large white hand slid across his back, heading right for the sweet spot between slender wings, and Wing promptly melted.

~It's gross,~ Drift countered, more than willing to back away and give the larger mecha room to move in. It was covered in goo, without armor, he doubted it could stand yet and it definitely couldn't fly.

"I think you have some work to do to convince your mate to sire one," Redline chuckled at Wing while he handed Sheerwing a couple large, extra-soft cloths to wipe her clean and dry with. "Settle down, Kaleidoscope, so I can fix this hole we made in you."

Wing stirred enough to make a face at Redline. "I'll wear down his resistance eventually. It'll take a while, but I'll get through to him. I got him to bond, didn't I?"

Drift growled low and deep at that, but not a single mech was fooled by it.

Sheerwing gently picked up the little femme, carefully cleaning off the fluids coating her small frame. She squirmed in his hands, but didn't actively resist, blinking up at him. Once she was clean, the deep purple Knight sidled over to where his mate could get a good look. Kaleidoscope finally relaxed, letting Redline repair the hole in his back.

Axe nudged his own mate, stepping forward. "Hello, Winddance."

"Sire's not-spark creator," she designated him the way such things were processed by the very young. Her gaze shifted to Dai Atlas, who was hovering uncertainly a bit further back. "Sire's sire."

"Sire's carrier," Sheerwing corrected, running his fingers over a tiny wing. "My sire is over there." He tilted his helm toward the purple and silver mech with the single red optic, coming over to smile down at the small femme.

"Hello, little one." The big mech smiled at her, then looked over at Dai Atlas as Starspark climbed down onto the edge of the berth. "Come over and meet your granddaughter, Dai."

"This will never stop being strange," Dai Atlas murmured, trusting his mentor more than he trusted himself at the moment. The creator protocols he'd long since thought had been deleted when his spark was too damaged to create again had been roused. His folded wings trembled faintly as he stepped forward to stroke along the slender protoform's back. "She'll be Starspark's size when she's grown."

Titanium rounded the berth to press his shoulder against Dai Atlas'. "She looks like a miniature you, only with a femme frame. And yes, she'll be small."

Winddance blinked up at both of the big mechs, leaning into the light touch. Her red optics were dimming as the exhaustion of fighting her way out of her carrier's frame as well as her lack of energy reserves caught up with her. Starspark retrieved the sparkling cube, climbing up onto her sire's frame. Winddance promptly grabbed at the cube, missing and almost overbalancing.

Her sire easily corrected for her lack of balance. "Let Wing feed her. He's the one who has a mate. It's good practice."

That got a chuckle from the white jet as he took the cube, hopping over to perch on his younger brother's arm. He held the cube while his small, newly separated niece drank hungrily, drifting into recharge while still latched onto the cube.

"She doesn't want to let go," Axe observed with a soft chuckle as Wing tugged on the cube, only for Winddance to latch on tighter.

"She'll learn she won't go hungry here," Drift offered the only advice he could. Something he thought was painfully obvious but expected the locals who'd never really suffered hardship wouldn't. "Let her keep it."

"And Sheer gets to clean it up when she manages to spill it all over herself in her recharge," Kaleidoscope chuckled, managing to wait until the repair on his back was finished before slowly, awkwardly rolling over. ~She's going to be the spitting image of you once she has her armor, love.~

~Closer to Starspark, only dark,~ he chuckled and leaned down to kiss his mate. "Reseal the cube and she can hold on all she wants," Sheerwing smiled indulgently at the relatively tiny protoform on his arm. "It's adorable."

~Starspark has Axe's chevron; Winddance has your crown,~ Kaleidoscope replied, returning the kiss, then reaching up to gently run a fingertip over the recharging sparkling's cheek. One of the two sparklings he still carried chose that moment to kick, getting a wince from the black and blue mech.

Wing resealed the cube, then let Winddance have it, leaning back against his younger brother's shoulder. "She's beautiful, Sheer, Kal."

"How long until ... she ... has armor?" Drift asked, shifting on his pedes and decidedly uncomfortable.

"By the time she's a metacycle old, she'll have some of her armor, though it will still be relatively thin and light," Redline answered, glancing over at the grounder before returning his attention to his sensors, checking on the status of the other two sparklings. "Depending on her final frame size, she should be able to fly in a century or so. Maybe sooner. From the look of her, she's going to be roughly the same size as Wing and Star, perhaps a little larger."

"Oh," Drift couldn't think of another response as his optics focused on his mate. ~Come home when you're ready,~ he said as he turned to leave.

Wing was lightly stroking Winddance's small wing nubs and the buds on her helm that would one day become a three-point crown like her sire's. ~I might be here a while, or Redline might kick us all out soon.~

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Wing landed on his balcony about a half joor later, humming cheerfully to himself. Redline had finally evicted everyone from Sheerwing and Kaleidoscope's quarters, giving the couple and their sparkling some time to rest, as well as giving Sheerwing a list of care instructions as long as his arm. Kaleidoscope was still practically immobile, so most of the care would fall to his mate.

Bouncing lightly on his pedes, still on cloud nine from meeting his new niece, Wing looked around the main room of his quarters, looking for any signs of his own mate. It didn't take long to spot the still, gleaming white armor as Drift knelt in meditation, his Great Sword across his lap.

~Evicted or bored?~ Drift asked with a touch of amusement, his frame utterly still.

~Evicted,~ the jet replied, bouncing over to join his mate. ~Wind and Kal are recharging, and Sheer is getting the care instructions from Redline. They need some peace and quiet before the rest of the Citadel starts showing up to offer their congratulations.~

~You really find that ... ... attractive?~ Drift leaned into contact with his mate, his emotions still in turmoil between his still-instinctive response to the utterly vulnerable and Wing's response to the same.

Wing nodded. ~Wind is a beautiful little femme, and I still want one of our own some orn.~ He leaned against his mate's white armor, resting his helm against Drift's.

~I can't see the appeal,~ he admitted honestly. ~It's so ... helpless. Useless.~

The jet blinked at his mate. ~Helpless now, but she's from Dai Atlas' sparkline; she'll be anything but helpless once she's in her adult frame. And it was love that kindled her.~ Wing tilted his helm. ~Do you... have the sparkling protocols?~

~Doubt it,~ Drift shrugged as he turned his helm for a kiss. ~Unless Redline installed them, there's no reason anyone else would have.~

Wing returned the kiss, purring into it. ~Something to look into some orn, maybe. But I doubt Red would have ever thought to install them.~ He ran his hand along Drift's arm, curling his fingers around the white grounder's hand.

Black fingers ghosted over black fingers as the kiss deepened. ~Is that why I react so differently than the rest of you?~

~Everyone else has the sparkling and creator protocols. So we react differently to sparklings than you do,~ Wing replied, leaning closer, wings fluttering against his back. ~If you don't have them, it's no wonder you didn't react the way we did.~

Drift hummed and deftly slid his Great Sword from his lap as he leaned back. His long spaulders folded inward and down to lay flat as he leaned back, drawing Wing down on top of him. ~Perhaps we'll ask, when she's old enough I don't find it so unpleasant an idea.~

~I'll warn you to keep your distance when her brothers decide they want out, too.~ Laughter danced in the words as Wing settled over his mate, his engines already purring, lifting one hand to stroke along Drift's side.

~I plan on avoiding it,~ Drift agreed empathetically, his engine rumbling in the mixture of pleasure and emphasis. His hands slid up his mate's frame, long familiar and just as desirable to him as the first orn he'd finally given into his frustration and lust and pinned the stunt jet to the wall. Only now the frustration was gone and the lust burned much hotter in a mutual passion.

Slender wings fluttered out, flaring wide, begging to be touched. Wing purred, pressing his frame against Drift's, nipping and licking at the cables of his throat. His hand slid into a seam, teasing lightly along the cables and wiring underneath.

~Such a wanton slut,~ Drift laughed, the phrase full of desire and affection for the trait in his mate as he reached for the wings. His fingers closed around the top edge and stroked outward as his helm tipped back in an offer of trust few had ever received. He moaned deeply and slid his spike cover open. ~_My_ slut.~

~And no one else's,~ the white jet purred in response, wings pressing into Drift's hands, nuzzling at the underside of his jaw. ~Not anymore.~ His valve cover snapped open, a drop of lubricant dripping out to land on Drift's plating.

Drift shuddered at the desire and joy behind the assertion and stroked the wings again as his hips rolled up in anticipation. ~Want you, love you.~

~You've got me,~ Wing murmured in response, shifting his hips to meet Drift's, guiding the grounder's spike into his valve. A low moan escaped his vocalizer as that wonderful spike rubbed over the sensor nodes lining his valve.

"Mine," Drift moaned, his hands sliding down to Wing's aft to hold him against the powerful thrusts he was capable of. It felt _so_ good to be encased by his mate. It was nothing like the pleasure he'd taken much of his existence; this made him tremble and anticipate his lover's overload as much as his own.

Wing's hips pressed down into each thrust, moaning softly. Bracing himself with one hand, he worked the other into a sensitive transformation seam, fingers finding a sensor cluster. Leaning down, he captured Drift's lips in a fierce kiss. "Yours," he whispered into the white grounder's mouth.

Drift could only moan, holding onto his mate as the charge rose between them. He moved one hand from Wing's aft to return to the fluttering wings. His strokes were less coordinated than before, but he was trying. The wing pressed into his hand, spreading out as far as it could go to expose the maximum surface area for petting. Wing's engines revved high, vibrating through both frames. He shifted his hips slightly to adjust the angle, letting out a soft cry as Drift's spike tip struck the dense node cluster at the top of his valve.

The sparks forced a shudder and grunt from Drift before he tensed and rolled them over. With the floor providing stability for Wing's hips Drift brought his hands up to catch his mate's hands and pin them as he thrust deep and hard, trying to draw out that cry again.

Wing purred at the move, wrapping his legs around Drift's waist, rolling his hips into each thrust. His back arched as he cried out again, the pleasure reverberating through the bond. It had taken so long to teach Drift the joys of mutual pleasure, but the sharpening of desire in Drift at Wing's pleasure was worth all the effort.

~Mine,~ Drift growled into a fierce kiss as his pace picked up, the thrusts coming harder, deeper and slightly less coordinated as the charge began to crest.

~Yours,~ Wing moaned, the mental moan matching the verbal one. ~Always.~ Slender wings trembled against the floor, the white jet wantonly arching into Drift's frame, rubbing as much of his own plating against Drift's as he could. The charge was building, nipping at his systems, dancing through his sensor net. Across the bond he could feel Drift's charge rising just as fast, anticipation rising with it.

Drift's mouth came down on Wing's throat, kissing and nipping and licking as he trembled uncontrollably. Loose energy danced through and across his frame as he moaned and jerked his hips, seeking that last bit of stimulation to send him over the edge.

The white jet leaned his helm back, his throat vibrating against Drift's lips as another moan escaped. His back arched, hips rolling up into Drift's thrust, taking his spike in as deep as it could go. He'd had larger spikes, more elaborate ones, more skilled lovers, but nothing compared to _feeling_ his bonded mate shudder and cry out his designation as hot, thick, charged transfluid rushed into his valve.

Wing keened as overload crashed over him like a breaking tidal wave. His valve calipers tightened around Drift's spike, the jet's whole frame trembling, joints locked. Charge leaped and danced across fluffed plating, darting across to Drift's frame only to return, intensified by the overload there. The bond was wide open, alive and thrumming with pleasure, desire and intense affection as Wing's valve was filled, the thick spike jerking with each burst of pleasure that pumped a little more transfluid into the mix.

The last burst came with a near sob from Drift, his frame pushed through pleasure and into the neutral confusion between it and pain. It was a pain he welcomed though, like he did no other. White hot, searing and pure, it was a blissful extreme he'd learned to desire like few things.

Managing to free his wrists from Drift's grasp, Wing reached up to wrap his arms around his mate's shoulders, fingers lightly stroking the back of his neck. Love flowed through their bond, wrapping around Drift's spark, bright and shining.


End file.
